Initial D Tora! Tora! Tora! volume 3
by margrave-of-the-stars
Summary: Ryosuke leads Project D to North Carolina while he struggles to figure out his future. Along with an old friend they find some of the stiffest competitions they've faced, will Takumi be able to hold up
1. The Great Glass Galaxie

**Warning! Achtung! Aviso! **This is the third installment of an ongoing series, if you have not read volume 1 and 2 please do so before reading this, as it may not make sense.

Disclaimer; I do not own Initial D. It should be pretty obvious that I am not Shuichi Shigeno, and don't claim to be. I do this for fun and the sheer enjoyment of writing and love of cars.

Chapter 1 The Great Glass Galaxie.

Four headlights pierced the darkness on the Shammel Highway just outside of Denton North Carolina. Behind the headlights one of Fords mightiest motors roared, the venerable 427 side oiler, adorned with dualquads and performance headers. No one at Ford had envisioned a Galaxie to be used this way, on a twisty stretch of two lane asphalt, but moonshiners had jumped at the chance to get a car that started off at least as fast what would be chasing them. The owner of the dark blue 1963 ½ Galaxie sports roof had gone a step further by replacing many of the sheet metal body panels with ones made of fiberglass, and two massive tanks, one in the trunk, the other under the back seat for transporting moonshine.

There was no radio, or heater in the cockpit, to save weight, even the Galaxie seats had been ditched in favor of bucket seats from and Econoline van to save weight. A large Stewart-Warner tachometer was mounted to the metal dashboard angled towards the driver. A driver who didn't realize the significance of what the car was, to him it was the only Galaxie he had ever known. Since the time he was 13 he had been piloting the 425 horsepower monster through the woods. Off in the distance he saw a pair of little red spots. Brake lights. The 18 year old driver of the Galaxie didn't lift his foot, the mighty 427 charged ahead, rapidly closing on the brake lights.

The cockpit of the Fiat X 1/9 lit up from behind. The driver checked his rearview mirror. _Someone's behind me? Who could be tailing me, everybody's gone home. _He thought just before checking his speedometer, which read 70 miles per hour. _What the hell is behind me? _Everybody _had _gone home, it was 2 o'clock in the morning, and he had watched the current king of the Shammel Highway leave in his Corvette.

Even though the X 1/9 was underpowered it still had an advantage over most of the competition, it handled so well that he could stay ahead of people just in the turns. A tap on the brakes brought his speed down enough to take the upcoming right hander.

"What the hell!" The X 1/9 driver gasped as he exited the turn, he suddenly found himself starring at the side of the Galaxie, on for a brief second as it exploded down the straightaway. "There's no way he can corner with me!" The driver of the X 1/9 exclaimed as he watched the afterburner taillights disappear into the North Carolina night.

"Huh, I wonder what that was?" The driver of the Galaxie wondered out loud.

•••

_May 15, 1998._

"Come on Bud! Get your ass out here we're going to be late!" William "Grizz" Graves yelled, half in his 1968 Plymouth Barracuda 340S. He hit the horn again. His other two half awake companions in the car both winced at the shrill blast of the horn. A couple of seconds latter the screen door swung open and out trotted John "Bud" Moody, backpack slung over his shoulder. He stood about five foot seven with dusky blond hair, but he was normally buzz cut. He trotted over to the car and his waiting friends.

"Mornin' Grizz." Bud said with a yawn.

"Get in." Grizz responded, holding the back of the bucket seat forward. "What do you do, stay up all night and go to bed at four in the morning?"

"Nah." Bud responded, not letting on how close his friend was to the truth. "Hey I thought it was my turn to ride shotgun?" Bud said as he plopped down on the vinyl bench back seat.

"Well if you hadn't kept us waiting, yeah." Grizz said, dropping down into the driver's seat.

"Yeah, we're always waiting on you Bud." Matt Karsberg piped in from the backseat.

All four of young men sitting in the Barracuda were seniors at South Davidson High School, all from the town of Denton. They only had a few more weeks of school and then graduation in early June.

"I can't wait 'till we're done with exam, then I can be out at night with you guys." Matt piped in again. "The Shammel Highwaymen will rule the Shammel Highway!" He said, getting very excited.

Scott Jones, riding shotgun looked back at him skeptically. "Yeah, and do you have a car yet?" Scott said, gently looking down his nose at his friend.

"Not yet." Matt responded, becoming sullen for a moment before perking right back up. "I've got an IROC Z Camaro all lined up! I just have to get a little extra cash!" He said.

"How much?" Scott asked, as he also owned an IROC Z, one of the top performers of the mid 1980s.

"$1500." Matt responded proudly. "Oh, I can't wait! 350 cubic inches of Chevrolet muscle. I can almost hear the rumble now." A funny excited look came across Matt's face as he discussed his perspective purchase.

"That's a good deal, it's not a shit box is it?"

"Nope, it looks really good, its red with the 5 spoke alloy wheels." Matt responded, getting more excited then he had been before.

"You know the competition out there is really tough." Grizz interjected. "Right now the two tops are a 'Vette and some little Fiat." Grizz said this with a sort of admirable contempt because the reality of the situation was that the Shammel Highwaymen, as they called their team were mediocre at best. He also purposely neglected to mention the 1982 Mustang GT that was running amok, and generally considered the third fastest car. It was driven by a girl who went to school with them, a Junior Mallory Iskenderian.

"Once I get my IROC-Z all that's going to change!" Matt said, proudly puffing out his chest, "And Bud will sit on the sidelines cheering us on." Matt said playfully punching Bud in the shoulder. "Can we come with you this Saturday night, can we?"

"Yeah." Grizz said, "Just be ready at 8, I'll pick you up at Bud's."

Bud had been staring out the window, watching the trees and fields roll by, the 340 V8 providing a good soundtrack.

"Oh alright. I wouldn't mind a chance to drive." Bud responded absentmindedly. There was a stunned silence for a moment before the other three broke out laughing.

"Come on Bud, you don't even own a car." Scott said between laughs.

"I've never even seen you drive." Grizz said.

"He would probably space out in the middle of a race and drive off the road." Matt said punching Bud in the arm this time. "Street racing is serious business, you have your reputation and your teams on the line, and your own safety." Matt jeered, "And you would screw both of those up."

Bud and Matt were very close friends, they'd been in school together since first grade. Grizz and Scott had been friends since Grizz's family moved to Denton when he was in fourth grade. Grizz and Scott had gotten into car, while Matt got into cars when he got is license eventually to fall in with Scott and Grizz. Bud just sort of tagged along, not quite fitting in, he didn't know much about cars, he wasn't particularly good at sports or school for that matter. He just sort of got through.

"I can't wait 'till we graduate, then all I have to worry about is work, my car, and racing." Matt said, and it was true, come early June it would be over, and then work and Saturday night racing would be all that concerned the small group.

Even though he gave off the air of being a total spaceshot Bud picked up the sound of a different motor behind them as Grizz pulled into the High School parking lot. Half turning in his seat Bud looked out the back window and saw the unmistakable four rectangular headlights and airdam of a black 1982 Mustang GT. He caught sight of Mallory behind the wheel.

While Bud and his friends might as well have been cloned, wearing the same basic blue jeans and T-shirts, all with slightly varying close-cropped hair where the only difference was the color of their eyes and their personalities. Mallory was something different, she didn't fit into the norms of High School girls, she was independent, her own person, and it made her generally unpopular, except for with Bud. He really liker her big round gray eyes, he smile, her wavy hair, dyed a dark sort of blonde, with the last few inches blue. It didn't help that she had the almost perfect female figure, befitting a pinup girl, and drove a cool car. He really liked her.

Even though Bud had never told her how he felt they had known each other for a few years now, she was smarter then him, or at least tried harder in school, so they ended up in the same English class, both of them not quite fitting in with the group, or almost any group at the school. Mallory parked her car right next to Grizz's.

"Morning boys." She said as she climbed out of her car. "At least today I don't have to worry about some jerk parking next to me and scratching my car, well at least on one side anyways."

"Yeah, it's nice how that works out." Grizz said, trying to hide the fact that he didn't like her, that and the fact the she was faster on the Shammel Highway.

"Hey." Bud said.

"Hey." She smiled back at him. "Did you finish the English homework?"

"Mostly." Bud responded.

"You jerk! You stay up all night and you can't even finish your homework!" Matt said, whacking Bud in the back of the head, "And you keep us waiting almost every morning!"

"Oww jeez, what the hell was that for?" Bud said as he turned to glower at his best friend.

"I'll see you in class." Mallory waved as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. Bud watched as she walked away, he noticed how the jeans she was wearing showed off her figure, especially her . . .

"You know she actually has a nice body." Matt said, "To bad."

"To bad?" Bud asked. "About what?"

"I heard she's kinda nasty, you know. . ." Matt said, trailing off.

"No, I don't know." Bud said.

"She's easy." Scott said from the other side, "Probably riddled with stuff."

"How, she doesn't really have many friends." Bud said, he may have been a spaceshot and not the most observant, but he could certainly see something this plain.

"I dunno, just what I've heard." Scott said. Bud wasn't happy, but he knew that his friends were just telling him what they had heard. He knew that it was most likely just stupid High School games and name calling, but that didn't make it true, and he didn't have to like it.

Together the four friends walked into school, Matt with his nose between the pages of an Auto Trader magazine, scanning for cars.

"What are you doing Matt. I thought you already found a car?" Bud said.

"Yeah, I did, but I still like to look, and who knows I might find a good deal. But others like this restored '87 IROC for $5000 make me feel better about the deal I got."

"Oh."

"And there's a lot of other cool cars, like this GT 350, but I'll never be able to afford one of those, they cost hundreds of thousands of dollars."

"Huh, isn't that just a Mustang?" Bud asked with a disinterested voice.

"Just a Mustang! Just a Mustang!" Matt yelled. "A Shelby GT 350 is one of the best American sports cars from the 1960! I can't believe you don't know anything about cars." Matt said with disgust.

"Jeez sorry." Bud said just before the bell rang. "We'd better get to homeroom." Bud said with a sigh of relief as they joined the mass of students headed towards classrooms.

Latter that day in English, the class had been broken up into partners to come up with interesting quotations from Shakespeare's Macbeth. Bud and Mallory had paired up. Towards the end of class she looked up at the clock mounted on the wall, and then back to Bud.

"Alright, it's almost lunch time." She said, and leaned back in her desk. "So Bud, do you have a car?" She asked.

"No, I don't have the money to get one, but I haven't really needed one."

"Psssh, nonsense! Everybody needs a car." Mallory scoffed playfully.

"I dunno, maybe when I get a full time job." He said absentmindedly.

"Well, ok, if you had the money what would you get?" She asked, leaning forward again, Bud caught a faint whiff of her perfume.

"I dunno," Bud said absentmindedly again. "Does Ford still make the Galaxie?"

"The Galaxie? Really Bud, you're such a spaceshot. Ford hasn't built the Galaxie since the 1970s." Mallory laughed a little bit.

"Oh, huh, well I really like your car."

Mallory cocked her head to the side and put on a comically big smile, so big she had to squint. "Good taste, and good luck." She said after a moment. "82s are very hard to find."

"Really?"

"Yup, it was the first year Ford brought back the GT and the first time it had a performance motor since 1973. In '83 it got a facelift, and the GT even had special body parts that didn't come on non-GT models in '82."

"Well maybe I'll find one someday." Bud said wistfully, thinking that it was fitting that somebody as unique as Mallory would have a car that was just as special. Bud looked into Mallory's gray eyes and for a moment thought about asking her where she got her _reputation _from. Conflicted, not sure it would be a good question to ask. Just as he was about to open his mouth the bell rang, dismissing them to lunch.

"I'll see you latter Bud" Mallory said as she escaped out the door down the hallway to the cafeteria.

"Hey?" Matt said as he caught Bud. "Hope you didn't catch anything." He joked.

"You shouldn't say that, you don't know it's true." Brian responded.

"Yeah I guess not." Matt said. "But everybody else does it."

"Uh huh." Bud responded.

"Are you coming out to the Shammel Highway with us tomorrow night, you gotta come, come on man, it's so cool!" Matt was almost jumping up and down.

"I dunno, I can't stay out that late."

"Oh come on, it usually doesn't go that late, you gotta it so cool to see all the performance cars, to hear the engines to watch as they race. It just gets me so excited, to think I'll be doing it soon too."

"I guess I could ask my dad, as long as I'm home by midnight it should be alright."

"This is gonna be so cool."

•••

Chris Duntov put his burger down, stretched his shoulders and faced out the window to gaze at his 1973 Corvette. The mirror smooth black paint reflected the beautiful spring day from all directions. He smiled a little to himself.

"Hey, come back to the real world." His friend sitting across the table said in a relaxed tone. "Black Vettey's already your, no need to keep drooling over her."

"I know Sung." Chris responded. "But sometimes I look at that car and it just makes me feel good, sometimes I can't believe it's my car."

The two young men sitting at table were almost indistinguishable, except that Sung was Japanese. He was in his late twenties and stood five and half feet tall with black hair that he wore a bit longer then most of the local men did. He was very laid back and easy going. Chris by comparison stood just under six feet tall, with buzz cut hair, a hold over from his days in the Navy. He was never one to get riled up easily, this made him stick out a bit in the Shammel Highway crowd as he was one of the small group of people who didn't let brand loyalty get in the way of appreciating a good car, regardless of its make or country of origin. There were certain things that he didn't like, namely economy cars with big wheels and zero performance parts. The reality being that he didn't have a problem so much with the car, but the person behind the wheel who thought he could take down anything with his Honda.

Chris and Sung had met shortly after Sung arrived in Denton, it wasn't long before Chris heard of 'some Asian fellow' driving a bright blue AMC AMX. Like he had looked at his Corvette a few minutes before Chris looked at the Big Bad Blue AMX parked in the spot next to the Corvette. It was spotless, perfect, all the best options to make a serious machine for the street, the Shadow Mask hood with Ram Air Scoop made it look even more menacing.

"When are you gonna run that thing on the Shammel Highway?" Chris finally asked, when he turned his gaze back to Sung. His friend was just about to pop a French fry into his mouth. All Sung did in response was make a face and shrug.

"Speaking of racing though, have you talked to Jason lately?" Sung asked.

"No." Chris said before taking a sip of his soda. "Why, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I just ran into him earlier today and he was wondering if you had gotten a new car?"

"Why, you guys get a lead on something good, a Mustang? A Charger?"

"A Galaxie." Sung said.

"A Galaxie?" Chris repeated, a little confused. "I don't know. I'm not sure how good that would be out on the Shammel Highway."

"No, he was wondering if you had already bought one, he had a run in a few nights ago, said one passed him." Sung said, staying calm which could be his most annoying trait sometimes.

"A Galaxie passed him, on the Shammel Highway?" Chris couldn't believe it, the thought of a full sized 1960s American car being able to out corner Jason's Fiat? "When did it happen?"

"I told you already man, a couple of nights ago, really late, he was hitting it hard trying to log enough time so he can outrun you when he got passed."

"Yeah good luck with that." Chris said. Although he was friendly with Jason he was still a competitor. Chris after logging countless hours on the Shammel Highway knew also know how much Jason would have to improve before he could take down Chris. "So what did this thing look like? Or did you not think to get a description?"

"What am I? A detective?" Sung asked with a wry smile. "He said it was dark blue, two door, with round taillights."

"Did he see any badges? What about a chrome contour line running from the fender to the front part of the door?"

"No, that was all he said, couldn't even get a plate number off the car, said it accelerated to fast." Sung said, enjoying the fact that Chris was getting so excited about this.

"I wonder if this mythical Galaxie is going to show up tomorrow night?" Chris wondered out loud. "The competitions been good lately, but it's always the same people, you know, it starting to get a little boring."

"Boring?" Sung asked.

"Yeah, Jason's good and all, but his car just doesn't have the power to run with Vetty. Sure his little Fiat handles well enough to let him outrun Mallory, but she's getting better and soon she'll be able to handle her car well enough to outrun him too. His car handles well, but mine handles well and has power to match. I'd just like to see somebody out here long enough to shake things up."

"Sounds like this Galaxie will do the trick, and you know if he does show up others will follow, looking for him, and more are going to come gunning for you." Sung scoffed.

"If I lose that is." Chris said, shaking a French fry at his friend warningly.

"Of course." Sung paused. "I might be able to help you out though, a friend of mine from Japan might be around eventually." He said, with just the hint of a smile that meant he was plotting something.

"Japan?" Chris arched an eyebrow. "Sounds cool. Is he any good?"

"Of course." Sung said, still calm and relaxed. "Come on man, nobody travels from Japan to the US to street race if they're not good."

Chris looked at his friend for a moment, thinking it over. No he would never go to Japan just to street race, he might do some if he were there, but it wouldn't be his only reason for going. Whoever Sung was talking about must be good.

"Well I hope he decides to make his way out here. Although why you would come out here I don't know. But for right now, I just want to see this mythical Galaxie."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

_A/N_

_Hi everyone, _

_Thanks for checking out my story, and I hope its up to everyone's standards so far. Please stay with me for a little bit as I try to establish my OCs before Project D makes it down here. I want to thank MoonRunnerDuke for allowing me to use some of his OCs for this story. One additional thing I'm having a little fun with this volume and to that end I'm including numerous little trivia/obscure references within each chapter so be on the lookout,(most of the references are either automotive, music or movie related) and if you think you've found leave it in a review which are always appreciated. Let me know what you think please, and thanks for reading._

_Margrave._


	2. Wild Eyed Southern Boys

Chapter 2 Wild Eyed Southern Boys.

"Listen Chris, that's all I know. I saw the car next thing I know I'm looking at its taillights." Jason said, running out of patience.

"See man, I told you he didn't know much." Sung said, giving Chris a tug on the arm. "Lay off the guy"

"Alright," Chris responded. "If you see it again pay more attention, I want to know about that car."

"Maybe you won't have to wait to see it." Jason shrugged, "Maybe he'll show up tonight."

"Whose gonna show up tonight?" Mallory asked as she approached the group.

"Oh some guy in a Galaxie." Jason offered quickly, before Chris had a chance to mention that the Galaxie had passed Jason.

"A Galaxie?" She asked, a little confused, but trying to keep her tone light so she could hide how nervous she was. At any given moment on a Saturday night she was possibly the youngest person there, Chris, Jason, and Sung were all at least seven or eight years older then she was, and she always struggled to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself.

"Yeah, a Galaxie. Do you know anything about it?" Chris asked, fixing his gaze on Mallory. "It passed Jason a few nights ago, dark blue, round taillights. It sounds like an early '60's Galaxie. Do you know anything about it?"

"A Galaxie?" Mallory asked again, squirming a little under Chris's gaze. "I've never heard of a Galaxie that would outrun stuff like that. I'd really like to see it though." Mallory said. _A Galaxie? Bud said he wanted a Galaxie. I wonder if he knows anything about it?" _"So does this mean that if anybody besides this guy comes looking for a race tonight they're mine?" She asked.

"Yeah, and keep your eyes and ears open, if you hear anything about this Galaxie let me know, alright?" Chris said, not being to forceful, but letting Mallory and all those within earshot that this was something important to him.

"Or course." Mallory said with a smile, before she turned to walk among the gathered cars.

Like every Saturday night when the weather was good performance cars gathered on the Shammel Highway. It was a tradition stretching back before anyone there could remember, all they knew, was that cars and people showed up at this little field at the corner of Yates Road, and North Carolina Route 47, like people showed up to Church on Sunday morning. All around Mallory were the sites sounds and smells of performance cars, the smell of rich gasoline mixing with the sweetness of freshly cut grass, the perfectly washed, waxed and polished paint and wheels. The crowd was made up of mostly American performance cars from the '70, '80s, and early '90s, Camaros, Mustangs, Trans Ams, Firebirds, Monte Carlos and some others. There were a few cars that went back as far as the '60s, like Sung's AMX, or Chris's Corvette. There were always a few tuner kids, but usually nothing good.

It was always interesting that along such a main road, at sunset, a place crowded with performance cars could seem so secluded, but the hedge that ran along the edge of the field separated it from the road and gave the little gathering of cars and people its own space, it was a hidden spot, and oasis for the local racers. They could always hear the sounds of cars coming down the road, and when a performance car was on its way everybody stopped for a few seconds to see who was coming in.

On the other side of town Grizz pulled his Barracuda up the driveway to Bud's house, he honked the horn before the car came to a stop.

"At least we may not have to wait forever to get out of here."

"Yeah." Matt said. "I can't wait until we get there, I want to see what's out there." Matt squirmed in the seat.

"Oh, its' usually the same people, same cars." Grizz said, trying to sounds casual, as he rested his head on his left hand. "Chris Duntov is the fastest, drives a Corvette, Jason Agulnick drives this little Fiat thing, but then you have a lot of Camaros and Mustangs, and some others." Grizz continued to try and fake a certain level of familiarity, if not only to impress Matt, but also, to maybe convince himself that he really belonged among those people he had just been talking about.

"Oh, this is going to be so cool!" Matt said pumping his fist in the air. Bud strolled out of the house a couple of seconds latter. "Awesome we don't have to wait anymore!"

"Hey, I kinda thought you'd be riding with Scott tonight?" Bud said to Matt as he climbed into the backseat.

"I would have, but he didn't want to wait, nobody was sure how long it was going to take you to get out here." Matt joked.

"Very funny." Bud said as Grizz pulled out onto the road.

"Well we're always waiting on you in the morning." Grizz replied, "I can't blame him."

They drove through Denton, every once and awhile they would see a car headed in the same direction as they were, and every time Matt would instantly get excited and start rattling off information about the car. Grizz would mention whether the driver was any good or not. Meanwhile, Bud, in the backseat would glance at the car, but for the most part he would stay zoned out. Gradually the buildings gave way to houses, fields, and stands of trees. Bud stayed pretty much unfocused and zoned out until he began to recognize where he was.

"Hey, I know this road." Bud finally said, as he began to map the line he would take through the corners.

"Yeah, everybody knows this road." Matt said. "This is the Shammel Highway."

"Oh, I thought it was Route 47." Bud said.

"It is, but it's called the Shammel Highway. Jeez, what are we going to do with you? I don't know if we can even be seen with you." Matt looked back at Bud, noticing how uncharacteristically he was focused.

"Oh, sorry. I don't have to come next time if you guys don't want me here."

Grizz, chuckled. "Everybody's got to learn at some point."

In a few more minutes Grizz pulled his car into the field where the rest of the local racers had gathered. Matt's eyes grew wide, hit mouth gapped as he looked around, trying to take it all in at once, every detail, the paint colors, what could be under the hood. Bud caught a glimpse of Mallory talking with a couple of other guys, making him happier about having come along with Grizz and Matt. Eventually Grizz backed into a spot along the hedge.

"Come on come on, come on! Get out Bud, I want to see what's here. I wanna look around." Matt said hopping up and down as he waited for Bud to climb out of the backseat.

"Sorry, like I said I don't have to come next time. So not only can you guys still be cool, you won't have to wait for me."

"Nonsense, we'll make a racer out of you yet." Matt said clapping him on the back.

"Great." Bud rolled his eyes as he fell into step behind Grizz and Matt as they made they're way around the field. While Matt continued to pour out facts about the cars he saw. Bud remained somewhat uninterested and zoned out, there was really only one car he was looking for, well maybe two, and the first one was only for the driver. They continued to walk around the field, but as they got close to one of the cars Bud was interested in seeing Grizz and Matt slowed down, almost as if they were keeping their distance, shying away from the top flight drivers and cars.

"Hey Grizz? Come over here." Chris called out, and waved for the small group to join him.

"Are we, really, that Chris Duntov, he's the fastest on Shammel, is that really Chris Duntov?"

Grizz looked down at Matt disapprovingly. "Of course that's Chris, stay calm." He said before heading over to where Chris, Jason, and Sung were standing near their cars.

"Hey Chris, what's going on?" Grizz asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Nothin' much, you're cars looking good, nice to see you take care of that thing." Chris said looking off in the direction of Grizz's Barracuda.

"Thanks." Grizz smiled as Matt sat there with wild eyes, looking over every inch of the black Corvette, taking in every curve, every glint of light off the chrome.

"I was wondering if you heard of a new racer?" Chris asked Grizz.

"Come on man, leave the kid alone." Sung piped in. "Nobody knows this guy."

"What guy?" Grizz asked.

"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Chris asked Jason.

"Nah, you go ahead." Jason responded, knowing that unlike Mallory, Grizz was no threat to his position as second fastest on Shammel.

"Alright, a couple of nights ago Jason got passed by somebody driving a dark blue early '60s Ford Galaxie. I was wondering if you had seen or heard anything about it?"

"A Galaxie?" Grizz began to question Chris as to whether he was sure it was a Galaxie or not, he totally failed to notice that both Matt and But had gone off to look at nearby cars, Matt concerned himself with Chris's Corvette, while Bud looked over Jason's Fiat.

_This car seems so small. _Bud thought as he looked at the wedgey Italian two seater. Its deep red paint glistened, shone like freshly spilt blood, the fender flairs contrasted in a perfect shade of black, and the brushed aluminum wheels looked good as well. _This looks like the car from the other night. _Bud thought. He continued to study the car as Grizz talked with Chris, oblivious to the fact that Matt had stopped drooling over Chris's Corvette, and was paying attention to what Chris was talking about.

As neat as the little red Fiat was it still only held Bud's interest for a short period of time. Without even thinking about it he wandered off in search of another car, a very particular black car. Only a few yards away what Bud was hunting for sat idle, its hood open for all the world to see. Bud stopped next to the fender and looked, studying the engine, not really sure of what he was looking at. A couple of seconds passed before Bud noticed the hands resting on the fender, and the arms that had him trapped. He looked down and saw the blue nail polish and half turned around.

"Oh hey." Bud managed.

"See something you like?" Mallory asked.

"I dunno, I'm not really good with motors." Bud said feebly.

"Really. So that's why you wandered away from Matt and Grizz, or were you not as interested in Chris's Galaxie story as I thought you would be?"

"Galaxie story?" Bud turned around to face Mallory.

"Yeah, he's been asking everybody if they've seen or heard about this early 60's Galaxie. I think he said it was dark blue. I thought you would be interested in that, it sounds like Chris wants to race him?"

"Why would I be interested in that?" Bud asked.

"Don't you remember the conversation we had in English class yesterday, when you asked me if Ford still made the Galaxie?"

"Oh yeah." Bud said, feeling a little more at ease now.

"Jeez, I thought you'd be more interested." She said, and made a face. Bud looked down and noticed that her arms were still keeping him in place. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?" She asked, leaning a little closer, and using her most cheerful voice.

"I dunno, I don't have any plans if that's what you're asking."

"Good." Mallory said. "I'm going to hang out with a couple of friend's tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you wanted to come along."

"Sure." Bud said. "I can't be home to late though, my Dad'll kill me."

"Don't worry, me and Black Thunder will make sure you get home on time." Mallory said and she patted the fender of her car affectionately. "I'll pick you up at eight." Mallory gave Bud a quick peck on the cheek before turning around to see if she could spot the car that was howling its way towards the field. In a couple of seconds it was turning into the field. In seconds almost everybody was looking at the entrance, starring straight at the bright red wedge of a Ferrari 308 GTS. The drive gave the throttle a couple of quick pumps, sending the small Italian V8 screaming into high RPMs. He stopped the car only a few feet from the entrance and walked right over to where Chris, Jason and Sung were gathered.

Slowly, more and more people began to move towards the new comer. Something like a Ferrari was a very rare site in the North Carolina countryside. Very few people understood them, everyone knew something about them, and their reputation for super high performance cars, but the unknown, the element that sets the cars apart, the kindled the curiosity of most of those around.

"I'm looking for a race tonight, if any of you think you can take me and my Ferrari on." The Ferrari driver said with a cocky air. He wore khakis and a collared shirt with the top two buttons undone.

Chris considered him for a moment, glanced over at the car. "I'm looking for someone particular tonight. I'll pass." He finally said.

"Alright then. Does anybody think they can take me on?" He chuckled , smug in his theory that he and his exotic car couldn't be beat. "What about you?" He said pointing at Sung.

"Didn't your mother tell you it's not polite to point." Sung responded in dead pan, with a lop sided grin.

"What about you?" The Ferrari driver said, ignoring Sung and looking squarely at Jason.

"Nah, I'm waiting for someone else too. Is that alright with you Magnum?" Jason responded, getting a chuckle out of anybody who had seen _Magnum P. I. _in reruns.

"So does that mean nobody thinks they can take me on?" He said, with a smug grin.

"I'll take you." Mallory piped in from a little way into the crowd, she quivered, she was nervous, and she was doing her best to try and hide, even if she had lost Bud somewhere in the crowd.

"Who said that?" Magnum called out, and slowly, Mallory stepped through the crowd.

"I did." She said.

"You're only a kid, do you even have your license? You don't stand a chance. What do you even drive."

"A Mustang GT." She responded, hoping she sounded more confident then she felt.

"Not worth my time."

"Then it looks like you're not racing tonight Magnum." Jason said with a smirk, and the Ferrari driver was clearly getting annoyed by his new nickname.

"Might be a wise decision on your part. She's good." Chris added.

"And what do you think?" Magnum asked, looking at Sung, who responded with a shrug. "Alright then, you're on." He said facing Mallory. "Ten o'clock."

"You got it." She said before turning around and walking back to her car.

"She's going to get killed." Grizz said.

"I dunno." Bud said. "Those other guys seem to think she can take him."

"Yeah, but that other guys driving a Ferrari." Matt said. "I mean he is a jerk, and I want Mallory to win, but. . ."

"Me too, but I wouldn't bet on it." Grizz said.

"Oh man this is so exciting, where are we going to watch from?" Matt said, starting to get excited.

"We could go to the finish line." Grizz said. "I just think we might only see a red streak if we go there though."

"Yeah, I'm afraid of that too, but it's tough. Why don't we go to the same place we always go?" Scott asked.

"Central Davidson?" Grizz asked.

"Central Davidson." Scott confirmed.

•••

At 9:30, with the sun having sunk below the western horizon hours ago Grizz, Scott, Matt and Bud piled into Grizz's Barracuda 340S. They were headed for the parking lot at Central Davidson High School, it was closer to the finishing line then the starting line, but because of the ditches that ran on either side of the road it was also one of the few places you could park a car and watch without much risk.

"Oh man, this is so cool." Matt said from next to Bud in the backseat. "The first time we're going to see a race on the Shammel Highway!" He almost danced in his seat.

"Yeah, it's too bad that you don't get to see Chris or Jason." Grizz said.

"And that our drivers almost certainly going to lose." Scott added.

"Yeah," Grizz grunted, with a tone that said he thought he could win.

"Sp why do you guys think Mallory's going to lose?" Bud finally asked.

"Because that Ferrari cost like ten times what her Mustang did when they both new." Matt exploded first. "It has a mid mounted DOHC V8 and independent rear suspension."

"Whets a mid mounted D-O-H-C V8? Or the independent suspended thingy?" Bud asked, Scott just shook his head in response, Matt smacked his forehead at his friend's ignorance of automotive terms.

"D-O-H-C stands for Double Over Head Cam, it means you can have more valves per cylinder, which makes it breath better, and this makes more power. Mid mounted means the engine is places in the middle of the car, so it's closer to the center of gravity, and improves handling, so does the independent suspension."

"Oh." Bud said, paying attention to the road, a road he had driven before, not that anybody else in the car knew.

At the intersection of Yates Road and Route 47 spectators stood waiting, looking at the two cars now waiting, idling, impatiently for the starter. There were a lot of people, Mallory squirmed in her Recaro bucket seat, quickly pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She couldn't remember being this nervous before a race in a long time, her palms were sweaty, and he body quivered. The worst part was the she couldn't pin down why, not sure if it was her opponent, the amount of people who would be watching, or the fact that one of those people watching somewhere along her route tonight was going to be Bud.

She didn't have long to contemplate her options as the started stepped forward and pointed to the Ferrari driver. He gave the gas a pump, the 3.0 liter V8 screaming. The starter then turned and pointed at Mallory, who pumped the gas quickly, her Ford V8 roaring at least and octave or two below the more exotic car sitting next to her. Mallory gripped the wheel and gave her seatbelt one more tug. The starter raised his right hand, held it there for a second or two before coming quickly down.

There were two very different and distinct sounds as the pair of high performance motors erupted into action, tires squealed, and Mallory and Black Thunder quickly leapt into the lead. The gap continued to grow as the two cars raced down the first straight away. A relatively short distance from the staring line the road began to climb a slight hill before banking into a left hand turn. Mallory charged into the turn ahead of her opponent, feeling that odd sense of traction that only comes from a driving hard into a banked turn. She exited the turn and notched home the shift to third, charging down the straight away that followed, before the road looped back into a banked right hand turn. At the end of the next short straight away Mallory jumped on the brakes and set up for the tight right hand turn.

•••

"Who do you thinks going to win?" Jason asked no one in particular. Sung shrugged.

"Who do you think will?" Chris asked.

"I'd like Mallory to win, but that Ferrari is a good machine."

` "Would you bump off the Ferrari?" Chris asked.

"Of course I would!" Jason said incredulously.

"Why?" Sung asked, glancing at Chris briefly.

"Because, I know this course like the back of my hand, and my X 1/9 is a beast."

"Right, and Mallory is the third fastest out here, and her Mustang is a strong runner. So you pick the Ferrari, I'll take Mallory." Chris smiled, Jason might be surprised.

•••

Mallory hopped on the brakes again and downshifted to second gear as she threw her car into the tight right hander, she stomped on the gas and began to climb through the turn, feeling the surge of the 5.0s healthy torque bank push her back into her seat as she accelerated through.

"This can't be happening, there no way I can lose to cheap pile of junk like that!" The driver of the Ferrari yelled, as he looked at the stretch of blacktop that separated him from Mallory. He exited the turn winding the small displacement motor to 8,000 revs, the motor screamed, shrieked in that distinctive small displacement high rev Ferrari formula. He pushed the clutch in and carefully guided the shifter to third gear before repeating the process as he charged down the straight away in pursuit of his prey. As the Ferrari attempted to catch the Mustang that was rapidly escaping into the night, the trees cleared away from the road, as it entered one of the faster section, with long sweeping turns, and fenced in fields with the occasional stand of trees on the other side of the ditch. Mallory glanced quickly into her rearview mirror, and noticed the headlights behind her, not as close as she had expected, but still not putting much more ground on them. In most other races she would have smiled to herself, but tonight, that nervousness still gnawed at her stomach, the worst part about it was the fact that she didn't know why. At least the race required enough of her attention so that she didn't dwell on trying to figure it out.

The Mustang pitched back, and then forward as Mallory jumped on the brakes on the short straight section near Shiptontown Road. She entered the corner in third gear, there were cars parked a little way up Shiptontown Road, with spectators near Route 47. This was a tricky turn, one that often crossed up new people to the Shammel Highway, as the moderate right hand turn exits into a much more gradual turn right. Because of the length the turn cannot simply be straightened out by taking the correct line, this means that drivers have to keep their speed lower then they think they should. Without a real straight away to allow a driver enough time to setup, the road that had been gradually climbing and turning ever so slightly to the right turns back to the left and quickly heads back downhill. To compound the difficulty, part way through the turn the road levels briefly where Young Road enters from the right. The combination often upsets a cars balance, or unnerves unfamiliar drivers, but not Mallory.

In the Ferrari, Magnum was able to correct the understeer he experienced through the long right hander, but tapping the brakes a couple of times while he still applied the gas. The technique, left foot braking momentarily shifted weight forward giving the normally nose light Ferrari more grip on its front tires and effectively rotated the car around its center. He charged into the next section, but spotted the flat section staying on the brakes across the flat part to prevent the suspension from unloading and losing control. He gritted his teeth as he continued his hunt for those taillights that belonged to the black Mustang.

•••

"They should be getting here any second." Jason said, as he strained to hear, listening for the telltale tire screech or the sound of high performance motors coming through the night.

"Yeah, they should." Chris said. They had parked at Bethany United Methodist Church, which sat towards the end of one of the longer straight aways on the course. It was a good place to watch from because they could see the cars decelerate from almost top speed down to second gear for the corner at the intersection of Route 47 and Bethany Road.

"What makes you so certain the Mallory is going to win?" Jason asked, facing Chris.

"I'll explain latter." He responded.

Jason eyed his chief competitor, wondering what information he could have that could make him so certain.

"Hey aren't you guys worried that somebody might see you two and think you're teammates or something?" Sung said, very casually with a wry smile.

"No offense, but I'd never be on a team with you." Jason protested quickly.

"Aww, I'm hurt man." Chris chuckled. "You know I'd love to have you as a teammate, you Fiat looks to cute next to my Corvette." Chris said jokingly, although he would have welcomed Jason to a team if he was willing.

The conversation went no further, as off in distance just barely audible over the small crowd that had gathered was the sound of one, and then another high performance motor. Suddenly everyone stood on top-toe, looking in the direction they knew the cars would be coming from, stepping as close to the road as they possibly dared so that they might be the first person to call out who was in the lead. It was Mallory. Chris knew a handful of seconds before anybody else called it out, the distinctive headlight, and fog light arrangement gave it away. He smiled to himself.

"How did you know?" Jason asked.

"I'll tell you latter." Chris answered.

The sound of the mighty Ford 5.0 grew and grew as the black Mustang charged through the night. Spectators waited and watched, wanting to see how far ahead of the challenger she was and to see just how well she set cut the turn. The exhaust gave off a sinister snarl as the car decelerated quickly. Mallory setup in the oncoming lane, and turned across the lanes missing the apex of the right hand turn by only a few inches. As the Mustang roared away the sound of the Ferrari continued to grow. Had he been closer to Mallory the driver of the Ferrari might have been able to follow her line, but now, instead he had to give it his best guess. He setup more towards the middle of the road, and consequently had to slow down more to take the turn.

"Wow, there's at least a few seconds between them." Jason said. "How'd you know?"

"I'll tell you latter."

•••

Mallory looked back as she passed the power substation just past the church, the Ferrari hadn't made it through the turn. After a fast left hand turn, she guided her car onto the next straight away, another fast section with a number of gradual turns followed. Here the Ferrari was able to make up some ground, but Mallory still held a sizeable lead as she slowed down for the next right hand turn. It was very similar to the one at Bethany United Methodist, except here Park road entered from the left. She setup for the turn the same way she had at the church, this wasn't the toughest, most technical section of the course, she knew that from all her practice. What she did know was that because of the series of low speed turns the section was a very good place to put some ground between them.

The black Mustang slashed through the turn in the same out-in-out fashion she had used before. The short straight away that lead into a deceptively fast left hand turn. It resembled many of the other fast sweeping turns on the Shammel Highway, but part way through the turn it suddenly got tighter, and element that had crossed up many a challenger in the past. She came through the turn very close to perfect, deftly using her skill to an extent that many older drivers couldn't, inside Mallory could feel the affect the hill was having, but she also knew it was going to be more of a problem for the Ferrari because of its smaller motor. Part of the reason this section was so important was because it led directly to the fastest part of the course, with the finish line not far off.

The Ferrari's V8 wailed away as the challenger tried to make up the difference, pushing hard but being hampered by being unfamiliar with the course, the tachometer needle wound its way towards the 7,000 RPM redline as the exited the turn and chased the black Mustang down one of the longer straights. In the distance he could see the taillights of Mallory's Mustang. _This is where my Ferrari is going to shine. American cars are made to drag race they don't have the gearing to run out here. _He thought to himself as he shifted to fourth gear, the motor screaming back towards the redline. The taillights however did not seem to get any closer, the gap stayed the same, or maybe even got bigger as he mashed the gas pedal and tried to catch the Mustang. He tapped the brakes so he could get around the small right hand turn, as his frustration mounted. Quickly he was back on the gas, flogging the 3.0 liter V8 for all it was worth.

"I'm not going to lose to some piece of shit Mustang driven by some High School girl." He ground out through clenched teeth as the road widened to three lanes as it passed Central Davidson High School, allowing more room to maneuver and pass safely.

•••

"Did you say that!" Matt bellowed just after Mallory's car roared past, he began to jump up and down pumping his fists in the air. Grizz and Scott stood by, their mouths open as they tried to process what they had just seen.

"Wow." Grizz eventually uttered.

"What?" Bud asked.

"That was Mallory, she was in the lead." Grizz said, as the sound of the Ferrari grew louder and louder as the small V8 strained to try and catch up the Mallory's Mustang.

"Oh, cool." Bud said.

"Bud do you really not get what just happened?" Grizz asked. "Mallory is ahead of that guy in the Ferrari. That car cost like five time what her Mustang coast when they were both new and well it's a Ferrari." And with that it flashed by where the group was standing.

"She's going to win! Yippee!" Matt yelled jumping and pumping his fist in the air again.

"The finish line isn't that far from here." Grizz responded. "As long as Mallory doesn't spin out or crash she's going to win." Matt continued to bounce and jump with glee as Grizz finished explaining the situation to But.

"Oh cool." Bud said.

"And you called it Bud!" Matt exclaimed. "Are you like some sort of savant with picking winners? We should ask you about horse racing. We could make a ton of money!"

"Yeah, if any of us were old enough to gamble." Bud corrected.

"It won't be long before we can, and then I can buy all these cool cars that I want!" Matt said

"In your dreams." Grizz said.

•••

Mallory charged down the hull, headed past a group of small brick duplexes on her left. Behind her she could still see the light of the Ferrari that was chasing her, but now she knew that his time to catch her was running out. She kept her foot down, and the Ford 5.0 roared. At the base of the hill she tapped the brakes, downshifted, and turned into the gradual left hander as the road began to climb again a handful of seconds latter she exploded out of the turn, charging up the short straight away to the bridge that marked the finish line, feeling the thump-thump of the first expansion joint, the finish line. Mallory backed off the throttle and gradually applied the brakes as a smile crept across her face she had won, and Bud had probably seen her at some point. It was especially sweet because she had been able to beat an arrogant jerk.

It had been a goodnight.

•••

"Uh huh." Sung said into his cellphone, "Thanks." He said and hung up.

"She lost?" Jason said based on the sound of Sung's voice.

"No." He responded flatly. "She had a good lead."

"What?" Jason asked. "She won."

"Yup." Sung answered.

"How did you know?" Jason said turning to Chris.

"It's really easy. The Ferrari may claim to have higher horsepower number from the factory, but the important part is that the motor develops them in a much higher RPM range then Mallory's 5.0. Also because of the difference in displacement the Mustang makes more torque at lower RPMS, which allows it to run away and hide before the Ferraris even on cam. The most important thing however is the aftermarket."

"Really?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, think about it. Everything I just said is what allowed Mustangs to outrun 308s when both cars were new. But there is much more aftermarket supports for Mustangs, which means Mallory can add more power and improve handling at a much lower cost, if the guy in the Ferrari can even find someone who will modify his car, not to mention parts. That black Mustang probably packs a lot more horsepower then that Ferrari had on its best day."


	3. Fantasy Girl

Chapter 3 Fantasy Girl

_May 17, 1998_

_ Milford Massachusetts._

Rain pattered off the plate glass window as Ryosuke Takahashi sat in the hotel room's armchair. Along with the rest of Project D he had arrived in the United States four days ago. The room was silent except for the sound of the rain, Keisuke his younger brother had gone to check out the complimentary Continental breakfast, leaving Ryosuke, for the first time since arriving in America with time to himself. Usually time like this would have been devoted to analyzing Project D's opponents, their cars, and drivers, as well as those of Project D itself, but they had not been in the country long enough to find any of the local courses, or racers, leaving Ryosuke with to much time and to much brain to keep occupied, but he had to find something to think about. . .

. . .like why Project D was even in America.

A year ago when he had been planning what Project D was going to do one of the main goals had been to coach his brother and Takumi Fujiwara that last bit, to make them ready for professional racing. The other goal was to leave a mark, to leave a legacy that would never be forgotten. It was supposed to be his last mark on the racing world, the team's legacy, his legacy. The swath they cut across Japan, defeating all comers was exactly what they had set out to do, and yet it wasn't enough. Ryosuke knew that right not Keisuke and Takumi should be preparing for the professional circuit, and he should be getting ready to take over the family medical clinic. Yet here they all were, in Milford Massachusetts, six thousand miles away from home. Ryosuke had told himself that this _was _the last step for Keisuke and Takumi, the final chapter of their street racing careers, the final step, the finishing touches before they moved into a larger racing world. Now with these few minutes to himself he wasn't sure anymore.

Unlike many of his past plans Ryosuke, the infallible leader of Project D, had not planned everything down to the minute this time, he had no real concrete plan, and now he wasn't sure why they were even in America to begin with. The next question he asked himself was weather or not this expedition was really going to help the two aces, or weather or not it was going to hurt them by delaying their entry to the professional racing world.

They were ready, and he knew it, both Keisuke and Takumi were among the most talented racer he had ever seen, they in all likelihood, could skip at least one, if not two low level professional series. So why had he brought them here to America? Why was he potentially sacrificing their careers? Putting them at a disadvantage when he knew they were ready to step into the larger world of racing. The answer was very simple, and no matter how much Ryosuke looked for an alternate explanation, and as much as he wanted to deny it, Ryosuke couldn't get around the facts, he couldn't find any fault in his logic or his analysis. _He _wasn't ready to leave the racing world. There was an emotional attachment there that he couldn't ignore, he couldn't just walk away from racing.

_Emotions are stupid nonsensical things. _ Ryosuke told himself. _They override the brains analytic power, they make sane rational people do stupid things, they need to be overridden whenever possible. So why are we here? _Ryosuke asked himself. Quickly he went back to the emotional attachment he had to racing, it had everything he liked in life. It required the driver to be disciplined, to practice, to analyze, the car, the opponent, himself, to sort the data so that every last advantage could be exploited. Paradoxically Ryosuke realized that he like racing was because he was so emotionally attached to it because it was rational, that he could make it so simple, that it could be boiled down to so few things.

Truthfully he knew emotions frightened him, and part of the reason why he didn't want to take over the family business. No matter what he tried to do there was going to be intensely emotional situations if he were to become a doctor. It just couldn't be avoided no matter how much he analyzed the cases, or looked at the data there would still be times when emotion got out of control, and he hated that, he was afraid of that. This emotional issue, Ryosuke's need to have everything make sense he knew was also why he had never really had to many serious relationships it was very difficult for him because in those instances he had another persons emotions directly linked to his, and that was something that defied his logic, his analysis, and his whole system for rationalizing the world he lived in.

Ryosuke had known for a long time that he did not do well with emotional problems, that was why for a long time he had focused on his studies, and then applying his considerable mental power to racing. They had always been his own little world where he could make everything make sense there were no emotions involved, well except for the satisfaction of accomplishing things, whether it was winning on the mountain passes or getting straight A's in the classroom. He knew that people had always admired his focus, and his determination and thought that his dedication was just that, but really all the time he had been putting in was so he could keep himself out of those tough emotional situations he hated so much.

Finally, the White Comet came to the only conclusion that made sense. He had brought Project D to America so he could stave off the inevitable, so he could remain in his rational sanctuary just that much longer, so that he could cherish these last few outings. But was he doing the right thing for Keisuke and Takumi? Well he'd just have to put his super computer brain to work on that one next, to make sure this was going to make them better.

•••

The phone in the hallway of Bud's house rang as he walked by. Every few minuets he had walked from the living room to the dining room so he could look out the window to see if Mallory had pulled into the driveway, this time the phone made him stop. For all he knew it was Mallory calling to say she was running late, or worse yet, cancelling on him.

"Hello?" Bud said, putting the receiver to his ear.

"Hello Bud, is your father home?"

"Um, yeah, hold on a sec Mr. Morris." Bud dropped the phone down to his hip. "Dad, phones for you." He yelled. In a couple of seconds his father was standing next to him.

"Hello?" Bud's dad said into the phone.

"Did you know you've created a big to do with the local racers? Seems you passed somebody a couple of nights ago and the words spread that a Galaxie took down one of the fastest on the Shammel Highway."

"What do I care? So a bunch of kids are looking for a Galaxie that passed someone. Besides it wasn't even me anyways."

"What? You mean somebody else is driving around in a Galaxie just like yours in the middle of the night?"

"No, it was my Galaxie, but I wasn't the one driving it." He paused as he heard the honk of a car horn outside. Bud waved as he passed and headed out the door. "So this is what you called me about? What do I care what a bunch of kids think they have something to prove. I don't drive anymore, so these kids aren't even looking for me. Bye."

"Wait whose driving. . ." Click, and a few seconds latter the busy signal started its obnoxious squawk.

"Hey." Bud said as he dropped down into the Recaro bucket passenger seat of Mallory's Mustang. He was nervous and was trying to make sure that nothing gave it away to Mallory. As long as he kept quiet and kept the sentences short and sweet she would never know. What Bud didn't know was that in the driver's seat Mallory was just as nervous, her heart thudded in her chest, even as much as she focused on driving the car to keep her mind off of things it still wasn't enough, her knees and legs felt shaky.

"So that was a cool race last night." Bud said.

"Thanks." Mallory said glancing over and flashing a quick smile at Bud. It was nice that he had noticed, but she knew that if she talked about it to much she might actually scare Bud away. A girl with a cool car wasn't always welcome in certain places, she might even be seen as a threat. Boys don't like it when girls can do things better, especially when it's a traditionally male dominated sport, and Mallory knew it.

"I was kinda worried about it. I mean my dad had said he'd beaten 308s before, but I'd never done it."

"The guys all wanted you to win, but they weren't sure that you really stood a chance."

"Yeah, I'm sure a lot of people were surprised." Mallory offered, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. "So have you seen Clockwork Orange?"

"No." Bud said, "I don't go to the movies often."

"It's an old movie." Mallory laughed.

"Oh, well still no."

"Good, that's what we're going to watch tonight."

"Cool, as long as I'm home by midnight."

"I know, I'll make sure." She said punching him playfully in the arm.

It was only a playful jab, but it carried a spark, something Bud couldn't ignore, the spark radiated from his arm all through his body, his heart instantly beat faster, his head got a little light, and he zoned out for a couple of seconds. Lost in the endless possibilities the future might hold for the two of them. So many inconsequential things that Bud had been keeping to himself for such a long time, things that he was afraid to tell even Matt. For the first time Bud looked up and noticed that where he had expected fabric was a glass panel.

"The ceiling on you car is neat." Bud said a little awkwardly, trying not to betray what he had been thinking only a few seconds before. Mallory laughed playfully.

"It's not the ceiling Bud, it's the roof, their called T-tops, see that little silver handle?" Mallory said between chuckles. "No don't pull it! If you did the glass could come out. It's pretty cool if you take them out and put them away safely."

"Oh, that's neat." Bud said.

"Hey, why do you keep reminding me that you have to be home by midnight? You know on my license I can't drive after midnight anyways. Are you going to turn back into a pumpkin at midnight or something?"

"Oh, no, my dad just doesn't like me being out to late." Bud said nervously. "I didn't know that you can't drive after midnight."

"Of course I can't. I'm still under 18, you're not supposed to drive between midnight and 5 AM if you're under 18. Or did you forget that since your last birthday means it no longer applies to you?"

"No, I just never knew that rule." Bud said. "It seems kinda stupid. I mean it's not like it's darker between midnight and 5 AM than it is between 10 and 12. And besides there's not a lot of cars on the road at that time of night."

"What you drive at that time of night often?" She asked. _I wonder what he's up to? _Mallory thought as she listened to the 5.0 Liter motor fill in the gap before Bud answered.

"I have a couple of times." Bud said, but it was clear that he was hiding something.

"But you don't have a car? Whose did you drive?"

"Oh, just my dad's old Ford." Bud said with a shrug.

_I don't remember seeing an old Ford in his driveway. _Mallory thought, _something isn't adding up here. _She tried to be as clandestine as possible as she glanced over at Bud, trying to figure out what it was that he was hiding. The two had known each other for a long time, and until now Mallory had never really suspected Bud might be hiding something, he had always seemed so straightforward and honest to a fault, but there was something. Something that she couldn't put her finger on as she turned up the driveway to her friend's house.

The two walked up to the front door and before Mallory had a chance to knock the door swung open. On the other side stood a boy about Bud's age. He stood over six feet tall, and was skinny, his hair was cut so he only had a few inches on the top of his head which he pulled back into a short pony tail, the sides of his head were shaved. Bud knew him instantly.

"Bud!" The other young man said, kind of excited, "I haven't seen you since Sunday School."

"Oh hey Jake, didn't you go off tot the tech school." Bud smiled.

"Yeah, I did auto body, I'm working over in Monroe now."

"Oh cool. Bet that pays good."

"Yeah, I do alright, hey, do you have a job?"

"I work at a gas station downtown."

"Well if you ever want to get away from it let me know, it seems like we're always looking for someone to do office work. But hey lets go watch the movie."

Mallory, Bud, Jake and his girlfriend Courtney all went into the house and squeezed onto the couch, with the lights off and the shades drawn the only light was supplied by the TV screen, with the ever changing motion of the images on the screen. Each of the four kids piled onto the couch tried to pay attention to the movie, or at least look like they were paying attention, stealing glances at the person sitting next to them on the too small couch. Bud was on the end, with the armrest squeezing into his hip and leg, casually he had put his arm around Mallory, resting it on top of the low back couch. It was to tight he thought, at least to sit normally, so really it was the most comfortable thing for all of them, right? Bud continued to feign interest in the movie, all he knew was that he couldn't understand half of what they were saying, it sounded like English anyway. Every time Bud stole a glance it was short, limiting the time he might get caught, afraid that Mallory would think he was staring at her. She was so pretty though, in the flickering light of the TV screen her face had lost all color, her eyes were as sharp and attentive as ever, but they were just black and white. Somehow it was magical, like the girl sitting next to him was a ghost, a spirit he could never hope to catch but must be content to merely sit next to her for the duration of the movie.

What Bud didn't know was that every few minutes Mallory was doing the same thing, looking over, studying his face, feeling lucky that Bud had agreed to come over tonight. The movie wasn't anything new, she had seen it before. As the movie continued to play Mallory kept thinking about how lucky she was that Bud was there sitting next to her, with his arm around her. This was something she had been looking forward to for a long time. It was corny, it almost made her laugh when Bud put his arm around her back, but she grabbed his hand and pulled his arm over her shoulder.

On the other end of the couch Jake and Courtney chatted a little bit through the movie, eventually deciding that they had to have popcorn and a drink half way though. Bud was disappointed, figuring that it gave Mallory the chance to move down the couch and get some more room, if only for a few minutes. Sitting there with the armrest wedged into his side, and Mallory making sure there was constant pressure wasn't comfortable, but he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. For a long time he had dreamed of being this close to Mallory, close enough that he could smell her perfume, and the scent of her shampoo, it was an intoxicating cocktail of fragrances. When she moved, which Bud had been expecting all along, she spread out and lay down across the entire length of the couch on her back, facing up at a stunned Bud.

"You could lay down too." She smiled.

Caught off guard Bud didn't know how to answer, she was practically laying down in his lap, he had to click his teeth together to make sure his mouth wasn't hanging open.

"Nah." He finally said, scrambling to fund words to follow up. "I'd have to take my shoes off and by the time I got comfortable they'd be back with the popcorn." _Oh no _Bud thought immediately, _she's gonna think I don't like her. _He had been feeling awesome all night, something he couldn't explain, something he had never felt before, now he was afraid he had blown it.

Mallory smiled up at him "Oh, ok." Leaving Bud unsure of what to do next. _I know …_ thought Bud, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek, and found out that he couldn't bend far enough forward, without thinking he kissed the nearest thing he could, her forehead. _Does he think he's my dad or something? _Mallory thought, although she was thankful he had done something.

The two continued to watch the movie steeling glances at each other whenever they thought the other wasn't looking. It was past 11 when the movie finally ended, the four stayed and chatted for a few minutes before Mallory and Bud had to leave. Bud wasn't sure but he thought Mallory drove slower on the way back to his house. When they finally pulled into his driveway the both got out. Mallory walked around the front of the car and wrapped Bud up in a hug.

"I had fun tonight." Mallory said. "We should do this again."

"Yeah, we should." Bud answered and pulled back just far enough to see Mallory's face, to look into her eyes in the moonlight. Very unlike himself he had decided on the ride home that he had to do something. Looking at her with heart beating fast and still unsure of weather it was a good idea or not his lips locked with Mallory's. In a second they both pulled each other closer, pressing their bodies together, feeling the others rapid hear beat against their own chest. After what seemed like an hour they pulled back simultaneously, and smiled at each other. Mallory giggled in a way Bud had never heard before, it sounded like what pure joy would sound like. Their lips met again a few seconds latter for a briefer but not less passionate kiss.

Mallory giggled, and it made Bud smile wider then before. "Goodnight." Mallory said smiling at Bud.

"Goodnight." Bud said, looking at Mallory's smile, that he was sure was bigger then he had ever seen it before.

Mallory climbed back into her car and took off for her house. _Oh my God! _She thought as she pulled out of the driveway, her heart still raced and fluttered, mostly from the kiss, but also because it was so unlike Bud, it was almost aggressive even, but he had done it. Mallory felt lighter then air, a feeling she wasn't sure she would ever be fortunate enough to experience. She felt so great that she sped the whole way home, and didn't notice once.

Bud strolled into his house. His dad was waiting at the kitchen table, he was getting ready to go out to the garage.

"She's got a nice car." Was all he said before heading for the garage.

•••

"Hey, where were you this morning?" Matt asked as he sat down next to Bud at the lunch table.

"Huh?"

"We waited in your driveway. Grizz honked the horn until you dad came out and told us you had already left."

"Oh yeah, Mallory picked me up this morning. Guess I forgot to call Grizz. Sorry."

"Mallory? What are you guys like a thing now?" Matt inquired, more astonished and surprised then anything else.

"No." Bud offered quickly, "I dunno."

"Whatever, do you work this afternoon?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." Matt said, "I've got something you need to see!" Matt said, wriggling in his seat as he got excited.

"What is it?" Bud asked. "What's so important that you're going to come visit work on your day off?"

"Oh you'll see." Matt said slyly before he broke out into a large grin. "So have you heard the news from the Shammel Highway?"

"What, that Mallory beat a Ferrari, I was there for that."

"No, the Shammel ghost. Come on man its all the racers are talking about."

"How do you know about it then, you don't even have a car." Bud said but didn't get the rise out of Matt that he was looking for.

"Very funny. But apparently there's the ghost of some old 'shine runner haunting the Shammel Highway. Story goes he got caught by revenuers in an ambush and they shot up his car. They say he keeps trying to finish the run he was on that night." Matt had slipped into the type of voice a camp counselor would use when he was trying to scare young campers. "Jason was passed by him the other night."

"And what does this ghost drive." Bud scoffed.

"An early '60s Ford Galaxie, its blue."

"Aren't you a little old to be believing in ghost stories.?" Bud said uncomfortably.

"Oh come on, it's the only thing that makes sense! Nobody around here has a Galaxie that fits that description, and even if someone did there's no way they could have passed Jason. His Fiat handles to well."

"There's no such thing as ghosts." Bud said emphatically.

•••

"There's no such thing as ghosts!" Chris said.

Sung shrugged. "I'm just telling you what I've heard. People keep saying its a ghost and soon someone will grumble that you're using it as an excuse not to race."

"What you think, I'm losing my touch?"

Sung leaned back off of the counter, and held his hands up. "It's just what people will say." Sung offered.

"I know." Chris said, before taking a quick glance around the store. Duntov High Performance sat on West Salisbury Street in Denton. Chris had used the G.I. Bill loans to help him get the business started, and he'd never regretted it. Being so close to the Shammel Highway meant that there was usually a pretty constant business. There was of course the added benefit of knowing what everybody was running when they showed up on Saturday nights. Right now though, the only other person in the store was Sung.

"I can't believe I pay you to do this." Chris joked

Sung shrugged again and gave Chris one of his lopsided smiles. "I'm going to get a coffee." He said and headed for the door.

"Hey 'sup Sung?" Chris heard just after the door chime sounded. He looked up, but even if he hadn't he would have known who had walked into the shop. "'Sup ol' man?"

"Who you callin' 'old,' thug." Chris smiled. "How's it going Ty?" He asked the African-American man standing on the opposite side of the counter. Tyrone Gibson stood a muscular six feet tall, with a shaved head. Since had come to Denton after completing his tour in the Navy Ty had found him and started trying to recruit Chris to his team, the F/GM RidgeRoller, F/GM standing for Ford/General Motors, of course the brands of cars that the team members drove. Chris was 25, only three years older then Ty, but he was still the old man.

"What's got you coming all the way up from Monroe, you need another part for that Boss of yours?" Chris asked.

"Naw, she's runnin' good. Just heard some story a couple of days ago, 'bout some ghost or something like that."

Chris glowered at Ty. "Man you know there's no such thing as ghosts. I thought you'd be more interested in the Mustang that beat a Ferrari Saturday night." Chris chuckled to himself as Ty's jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"Who was drivin'?" Ty asked when he regained his senses.

"Mallory Iskenderian. She's got a black '82."

"Oh that high school girl from last summer? I remember her, I really like her car. What type of Ferrari did she beat?" Ty asked, still a little surprised.

"It was a 308, for a little while there I wasn't sure whether or not I'd time travelled back to the 80s."

"See man, that's how I know you're old, I can't remember enough of the 80s to get confused like that." Ty laughed a little at his friend. "But now seriously man, have you considered joining the RidgeRollers?"

"Sorry Ty, you know that's not my thing. Besides, most of the action your team sees is around Monroe, that's more then 60 miles from here."

"A'ight. Maybe he'll join." Ty pointed over Chris' shoulder to the Red Camaro IROC-Z that had just pulled into the gas station across the street.

Matt stepped out of his car, beaming from ear to ear, the door closed with a solid thud. His three companions looked at him and then to the red Camaro.

Bud was the first to speak. "Cool car man."

"What did you do, steal it?" Scott asked as he leaned in to take a closer look at the interior.

"Nope, its mine." Matt responded puffing out his chest. "Paid $1500 for it."

"Not bad." Scott said appreciatively. "The paints a little faded, and the interiors got some rips and stains, but its all here and solid too. What motor?" Scott asked when he saw the manual shifter poking out from the console.

"Tuned Port Injection 350." Matt said getting even prouder. "It's a 1987."

"Then you're lucky." A voice from the other side of the car said. In their excitement the group of friends had failed to notice the two guys walk over from across the street. They all knew the voice instantly, and froze for a second.

"Thanks." Matt managed to choke out as he turned to face Chris Duntov, everyone was surprised when they didn't recognize the African-American man standing next to him, they had never seen him on the Shammel.

"Guys this is Tyrone Gibson, he's from Monroe. That's Grizz, and Scott, and you two are?" Chris said, looking between Bud and Matt.

"I'm Matt Karsberg, and this is Bud Moody." Matt was almost trembling, this was his first introduction to the King of the Shammel Highway.

"How y'all doin'?" Ty asked, and he was met by a round of positive answers. "Mind if we take a look under the hood?"

"Nah, go ahead." Matt said, trying to play it cool as he reached inside and pulled the hood release.

Chris and Ty looked down at the motor, while he others stood back a little ways.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ty asked in a whisper, differing to Chris' knowledge of Chevys.

Chris rubbed some dirt off of the catalyst decal. "Yeah, it is, do you want to tell him or should I?" He whispered back.

"Naw, you can tell him, I don't even know the kid."

"Alright." Chris stopped whispering. "Matt, how much did you pay for this car?"

Matt rushed to the side of the fender. "$1500." He stated proudly, Chris' face was tense.

"Well that's good, at least you didn't pay 350 money for it." Chris finally said.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked suddenly quiet.

"Well the motor in your car is a 305, not a 350. There weren't a lot of 350s and almost none of them got manual transmissions."

"What!" Matt yelled. "I didn't know there was another V8 in the IROC-Z!"

"There were three. At least you have the better of the two 305s here."

"So it doesn't have 220 horsepower?" Matt said glumly.

"Only 190." Chris responded.

"190." Matt echoed, in a state of shock.

"Come here, take a look." Chris said pointing to the radiator mount. "This is the catalyst, this decal will usually have the displacement on it." Chris' finger pointed squarely at 5.0L on the tag.

"So it's a 5.0 liter, like Mallory's Mustang." Matt cheered up a little bit.

"Ugh." Ty said. "Not exactly." He glowered at Chris.

"Ford did a really good job with the 5.0 in the Mustangs and some other cars, but Chevy was always focused on the 350. The 305 kinda has a reputation of being a dog. The 350 was the only thing that could run with the 5.0 Mustangs in the 80s.

"Ahh!" Matt screamed, and almost fell on his face. "This is so depressing."

"Hey man there's some hop up parts out there for the 305, you can make it run better." Ty offered.

"Or you could swap in a 350." Chris offered, picking up on Ty's attempt to raise the kid's spirits.

"Man, I knew this deal was to good to be true, now I'm out of money and have a crappy car." Matt sulked.

"Oh come on Matt. We'll help you get this thing on top of its game," Grizz said.

"Yeah." Scott responded.

"You know you don't need a lot of money to do some things to these motors." Chris offered. "You should come over to the shop sometime and we'll look through some catalogs and plan out what you want to do."

"Not even 200 horsepower. I knew it didn't sounds like Scott's car." He mopped, totally missing the invitation to hang out with Chris that Grizz and Scott were deathly jealous of.

"It's got potential." Chris offered.


	4. Movin'

Chapter 4 Movin'

Bud sat on the couch in his living room, every body else had gone out to the Shammel Highway, it was kind of Matt's initiation into Grizz and Scott's team. Tomorrow, even if Matt was still bummed out about his car not being what he thought it was he would be proud of the sticker they were going to put over the rear fender of his car. Matt had invited him but it just didn't seem right that he would be the only on without a car. It just seemed like you had to have you own car if you were going to take part in something like that. _My own car? _Bud thought before the phone started to ring.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Bud! I want a Snoopy." It was Mallory on the other end, and even though he didn't know what she was talking about it was clear that she was excited.

"What?"

"A Snoopy, you know from an ice cream truck." She said.

"Oh of course." Bu responded, feeling like he had missed out on some big part of childhood because he was never one to stop the ice cream truck when he was younger. "Well I don't really see the ice cream truck all that often, but I'll keep my eye out for him."

"Grab me one if you catch him and give me a call."

"Alright, then I should go so I can hear the truck if he come by."

"Alright, bye." Mallory said.

"Bye." Bud said and hung up the phone.

He sat back down on the couch and tried to remember the last time he had heard the ice cream truck come through. It wasn't like his house was in the middle of a nice neat neighborhood where the driver could make a lot of money just by stopping at every block, most people went right past his driveway every day and didn't even know there was a house at the other end. While deep in thought as to whether or not he would get a chance to come through on Mallory's request he almost missed the feint sound of Pop-Goes-The-Weasel, that seemed to be the only song ice cream trucks ever played. Maybe because it had been so long since Bud had heard the childhood melody, or maybe because he was thinking of how unlikely it was that an ice cream truck would come through, or perhaps even because he was thinking how much he didn't want to disappoint Mallory, but it really wasn't in his control. Lost deep in these thoughts Bud almost failed to realize what the sounds he was hearing meant.

"Oh crap!" Bud exclaimed as he sprang from the couch and made his way to the front door, hoping he could make it down the driveway fast enough.

"This is what you were looking for, right?" Bud asked as he pulled the two ice creams from the freezer.

"Yes!" Mallory said, and her eyes grew wide. "Do you know how long it's been since I've had one of these?"

"No, how long?" Bud asked.

"It's been forever." Mallory answered before taking her first bite. "Wanna go sit down on the porch?"

"Sure." Bud responded, and soon they were sitting next to each other on the front porch.

"So do you have any plans for after graduation?"

"What like a party?"

"No." Mallory laughed a little. "Like plans for what you're going to after school."

"Oh, I haven't really thought about it." Bud answered "I guess I'll try to find a full time job."

"So you won't be going away to college or anything like that?" Mallory said hopefully.

"Nah, you know schools not really my strong point. Besides, what would I go to school for? I don't even really know what I want to do."

"Oh come on, there must be something that you want to do for work. Like I want to be a journalist."

"What for a newspaper?"

"Or magazines, or whatever." Mallory answered. "I always thought it would be fun to work for one the new car magazines, getting paid to drive all these cool brand new cars. And if you get one like a Mustang or something cool you really get to push it." Mallory smiled, "I think it would be fun."

"So you're going to school for that?" Bud asked.

"Yeah, I want to go to Penn State because it's close to where I'm originally from, but I think that's a bit of a long shot." She admitted.

"I didn't know that you were from Pennsylvania. I just kinda thought you were from around here, or maybe on the coast."

"Nope. I'm from Pennsylvania." Mallory said proudly, "I'd like to have a house there someday. We used to live in the Poconos. It was kinda like a cabin, there was a loft and most of the walls were woods paneling. I still have a lot of family there but my Dad's job made us move down here."

Bud thought about that for a couple of seconds, it sounded like a really nice place, but he couldn't imagine moving there. _Wait, why am I thinking of that? _Bud caught himself. _I don't even know if she's my girlfriend why should I get depressed about her moving to Pennsylvania, or going off to college? _Bud looked at Mallory, suddenly feeling a strange awkward tension that he hadn't noticed before. They each wanted to ask the other the same question but were afraid that the other would have a different answer, an answer that could no doubt hurt each of them. The both wanted to know though, they wanted the answer to the same question. The worst part was that there was no way of knowing until it was too late. Once the question was asked there was no going back, things were either going to go as expected, or someone was going to be upset.

"What are we?" Bud finally asked, trying hard to keep his voice as even as possible, he could feel adrenaline in his veins, making him weak, and shaky, but at the same time making him want to move around and do something, even if his body would protest.

"What do you mean?" Mallory asked, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Well after the other night. . ." Bud stumbled a little. "I mean we've been friends for a long time but after the other night. . ." Bud trailed off. "I was just wondering."

"What do you want us to be?" Mallory asked. Bud usually wasn't very observant, his grades showed that, but when it came to Mallory, well she had his undivided attention and he noticed the quiver in her voice. He took a deep breath knowing that his answer could completely change their friendship, or totally destroy it.

"I dunno." He finally said. "I mean I like being friends with you, but. . ." He trailed off again. "What do you think?"

"I dunno." Mallory paused. "It just kind of felt _right, _you know?"

"Yeah." Bud answered.

"So then we're. . ." Mallory stopped.

"Yeah." Bud said again. They both smiled at each other, Mallory even giggled a little bit as they embraced each other.

_Wait, this isn't how this is supposed to happen. _Bud thought. _We agreed to this, I thought I had to ask. Oh well. _

They forgot what they had been talking about only a few moments before, now none of that mattered, college, long term plans, all that was stuff they would talk about latter because at that moment they were too happy to think of anything else. Secretly they had both wanted this very thing for a long time, neither knowing how long, or how much the other had wanted it.

"So how did you get into racing?" Bud asked after a little while.

"I dunno. It just kind of happened. I mean I had to find something to do with my Saturday nights." Mallory said, thinking that Bud wouldn't notice the hint of melancholy in her voice, he did. "Really I just stumbled on it. I had heard some of the guys at school talk about it. I found myself there one night and just figured if I worked hard at it I could be good too."

"I'd like to race on the Shammel Highway someday too." Bud said, and Mallory hear the confidence in his voice, like he knew something that others didn't.

"You need a car first."

"I know but, the thing is I don't know too much about cars. I would probably buy the wrong one or something. Look at Matt he knows a lot more about cars than I do and he still got a bad Camaro."

"He seemed way too depressed for somebody that just got a car. So is it a 305?"

"Something like that." Bud shrugged. "I told you I don't know a lot about cars."

"Well I'm always here to help. I don't know as much as my dad, but I know a thing or two about cars." She smiled at him, a really big exaggerated smile. "Eventually we'll be the fastest couple on the Shammel Highway."

"We'll be the only couple on the Shammel Highway." Bud laughed a little but didn't miss the fact that she was already talking about the future, he began to wonder if she was thinking about the future as much as he was.

•••

Weird! That was the only way to describe driving in America Keisuke thought. To start with he was driving on the wrong side of the road. Ever since he had got his driver's license Keisuke had only ever driven in Japan, which meant on the left side of the road, but here in America they drove on the right. On top of driving on the wrong side of the road, he was on the opposite side of the car from the centerline, it completely changed his perspective on the road. When he had left the hotel earlier he had headed east, it just looked like heading west would put him in the center of a big town, and he didn't want that. A good road was what he wanted he needed a place where he could exercise the FD. The road he was on was good for that, if only the slower traffic would get out of his way.

Driving along at such a slow pace did allow Keisuke to take in his surroundings, and while the road had a good surface and some nice high speed turns it wasn't going to be a particularly tough place to race. Out here though it was hard to identify where the locals raced. There was no obvious place no mountain passes, so far there was no place sufficiently away from people that Keisuke would want to race. _I can't wait till we get to race. _Keisuke thought. It was taking his brother a longer than usual amount of time to formulate his plan. Back home it never seemed to take this long, almost every weekend from the time they were with the Red Suns to the their time with Project D in Japan it seemed like they had a race every weekend weather permitting of course. But they'd been in America for more than a week now and still hadn't even been out looking for racers hang outs yet. Keisuke was itching for a race. He looked down at his instruments after realizing he hadn't checked them in a bit and saw that his gas gauge was almost on empty.

"Crap." He muttered and began looking for a gas station while at the same time noticing that he hadn't seen one along this road for quite awhile. Just as he was beginning to dread the thought of having to call Ryosuke to bring him a can of gas he rounded a corner and a gas station came into view. Quickly he pulled in. He hopped out of the car and began to pump gas, not paying attention to how much it cost, he just needed gas. This was one of those things that was different about driving in America, self serve gas stations. In Japan he couldn't remember the last time he had seen one, if he ever had, but in America, finding a full serve station was next to impossible. His cheeks became red thinking about the first time he had tried to buy gas in America, he had waited in his car for a couple of minutes before he noticed that everybody else at the station was pumping their own.

Growing up in Japan, and being involved in the racing scene there Keisuke had grown accustomed to what Japanese performance cars sounded like, what he heard in the distance couldn't be anything but a strong running performance car, he could tell that, but it sure as hell wasn't Japanese. Back and forth Keisuke scanned, trying to look both directions at once so he wouldn't miss the car. A few seconds later it came around the same corner Keisuke had and pulled into the gas station. Keisuke tentatively identified the car as a late model Camaro, he had been studying picture that his brother had provided but he still wasn't sure.

"Nice car." The driver of the Camaro said as he got out to pump gas, he was about the same age as Keisuke, with close cropped hair.

"Thanks. . ." Keisuke was about to return the compliment but the other driver cut him off.

". . .What's it got like 150 horsepower?"

"Excuse me?" Keisuke said, his cheeks beginning to get hot, his knuckles white around the gas pump nozzle, and an edge of challenge in his voice.

"Well a windup toy like that can't have any more than 100 horsepower from the factory and everybody knows stickers at 5 horsepower. So I figure you got about 150." He said sarcastically.

"It has a little bit more then that." Keisuke ground out.

"You'll have to show me some time." The Camaro driver said, glowering at Keisuke.

"I'd be happy to."

"You'll be playing catch up the whole time in that thing."

"We'll see." Keisuke said between clenched teeth. Keisuke looked at the gas pump and suddenly realized that he had pumped more gas then he had intended too. He let go of the lever more out of surprise than anything else. After paying for the gas Keisuke climbed back into the FD and headed for the hotel, fuming about his first run in with a local.

_I can't believe that guy." _Keisuke thought on his way back. _Shows how much he knows. FDs made more than 250 horsepower from the factory. _He continued to brood on the situation, the FD cruising along like always. Suddenly there was a flash in Keisuke's rear view mirror, his heart jumped thinking it was either a Police car, or some other emergency vehicle, then he looked again and saw that it was the Camaro from the gas station. "So you want to play?" Keisuke said out loud, there were no cars in front, and the Camaro came roaring up on his back bumper.

"You asked for it." Keisuke's eyes narrowed and he downshifted there was only a brief moment of hesitation as the turbos spooled up, accompanied by a firm push back into his seat and a whistle that continued to grow louder. The FD accelerated hard, the needle on the tachometer spinning towards redline, Keisuke shifted and glanced back to see the Camaro trying to keep up, but still, gradually getting smaller in the mirror. A small smile pulled at Keisuke's lips as he chuckled to himself.

•••

"So what do you wanna do today?" Bud asked Matt as they walked towards Matt's car.

"I dunno," Matt said, he was still a little depressed about not getting his dream car, who would have known that 45 cubic inches made such a big difference.

"We could go hangout at my house." Bud offered. "Or we could go down the Shammel Highway."

"Nah, it's too wet right now." Matt answered. The rain was still coming down around them at a steady pace. "I would want to go too fast out there." Matt said but Bud missed the hint of a smile the crept onto his friends face. "We could just drive around though." Matt said as he popped open the driver's door on his Camaro. Along the flanks above the rear wheel Bud noticed the Shammel Highwaymen sticker. The whole thing was slanted towards the back of the car, with the S made to look like an S curve on a road and the upright parts of the H looking like tire tracks.

"So where do you want to go?" Bud asked.

"I dunno we could just driver around for awhile." Matt said as he waited for his car to warm up before setting off. Bud could tell that Matt was still bothered by the fact that he had bought a car that wasn't what he thought it was.

"How do you like your car so far?" Bud asked.

"It's alright." Matt shrugged as they pulled out of the school parking lot and started driving around aimlessly.

"Really? That's it? I thought you would be really excited. I mean you got your own car, you don't have to bum rides off of people, or ask you parents to borrow theirs, I mean that's so cool."

"Yeah, but I really wanted a 350. You were there the other day with Chris and Tyrone, they called this thing a dog." Matt said in a resigned tone.

"But it's your car." Bud persisted, "It's not your Dad's old car, or a minivan, or anything like that. So it doesn't have the motor you wanted. Didn't you listen when Chris said he would help?" Bud paused, and his friend glanced over quickly, scowling a little. "Honestly, I'm jealous of you." He admitted.

"Really?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, I mean I have my license and my dad will let me borrow his truck if I want to go out but it's not _mine. _This is your car, you can do what you want with it, when you want to."

"Yeah, I can." Matt said, cheering up. "You wanna go over to Chris' shop later and talk to him about what we can do?"

"What _you _can do." Bud smiled, putting the emphasis on the second word. "And yes."

"Cool." Matt said, and he began looking for a driveway to turn around in.

Bud wasn't really paying attention when Matt finally started to turn around. "Matt stop the car!" Bud said, he had seen something out of the corner of his eye and began twisting in the seat to get a better look.

"What?" Matt asked with an equal amount of fear and surprise. "Did I hit something, am I about to hit something?"

"No I saw something." Bud said trying to get a better look, he finally spotted it, sitting under a tree, a weird sot of blue color, a little bit darker then Petty blue.

"What's that?" Matt asked as the two friends gazed through rain distorted windows.

"I dunno." Bud admitted. "But I'm gonna take a look."

"Really, but it's raining." Matt objected. "Couldn't we come back tomorrow?"

"We'll forget tomorrow." Bud said and popped open the door. Big fat raindrops hit Bud as he walked towards the car. He could see it a lot better now. It was sitting under a tree, so the top part of the body from hood to bumper was almost black because of the tree sap falling on it every spring, in places it was even running down the sides of the car creating ugly black daggers on top of the paint. At least the tree kept some of the rain off.

"Oh come on." Matt protested. "You don't want this thing, it would take a total restoration to get it on the road again."

"No, this is the car I want." Bud said. "I mean sure, it's not pretty right now, but the body is all there. I bet this would clean up real nice."

"Maybe." Matt shrugged.

"Can I help you boys?" A gruff voice asked from behind them, both Bud and Matt froze for a second, trying to figure out if they were in trouble of not.

"We were just looking at the car sir." Matt answered as they turned around and looked at the bearded old man standing under the awning by his front door.

"Used to be my son's car, he broke something in the transmission and stopped driving it. Finally told me I could sell it a couple of weeks ago. Just haven't gotten around to making a sign yet."

"How much?" Bud asked, surprising Matt with how focused and serious he was.

"Oh, I think about $1000." The old man offered.

Bud looked at the car, and thought for a moment. "I don't have that kind of money." He finally said, feeling his heart sink as he spoke the words.

"Well," The old man began, "I could go down to $500, but no lower, considering it'll need a new battery, and tires, and the transmission will need to be fixed."

"I gotta go talk to my dad, I'll be back tomorrow with an answer if that's alright?" Bud asked, the old man seemed to consider this for a moment.

"I think that oughta be alright."

"Thank you." Bud said, and he headed back towards Matt's car.

"I can't believe you!" Matt said as they started back towards downtown Denton.

"What?" Bud said.

"You pretty much just bought a 1965, or '66 Mustang that needs a transmission, and you're gonna pay less for it then I paid for my car."

"Yeah, but your car works." Bud said simply.

"And what was up with that front bumper? You'll have to get a new one, it's supposed to be chrome." Matt steamrolled through.

"I dunno, I kinda like it."

"Alright, but don't come crying to me when people laugh at you."

"Very funny." Bud mock laughed at Matt. "I just need to convince my dad to help me out with it."

"What?" Matt said incredulously. "You don't have the money to get it yourself?"

"I have the money to buy the car, or to fix, but not both. I figured I'd ask my dad if he would help."

"Wow Bud, wow! You'd better not tell that to anybody on the Shammel."

"We're going to Chris' shop?"

"Yeah."

"Good, I can ask about a battery for it."

"So what are you going to do with it?" Matt asked.

"I dunno, maybe paint it, clean it out."

"Well yeah, but are you going to race it, or do anything to the motor?"

"I dunno, I'm not really good with mechanicals."

"You're such a sorry excuse for a car guy." Matt grumbled.

"Who says I'm a car guy." Bud said emphasizing the last two words.

"What am I going to do with you?" Matt joked as they pulled up outside of Duntov High Performance.

The two High Schoolers walked into the speed shop and were confronted by a place that was totally different than any other store or shop in Denton. Along one wall dozens of different styles of wheels were displayed, all bright and polished, reflecting the light from the florescent bulbs overhead. Shelves were lined with everything from fuel and oil filters to cleaning supplies. Anything you could want for, or use on a high performance car could be found on the shelves.

"Hey guys." Chris said from behind the counter. "What can I help you with."

"He should go first." Matt said, nodding towards Bud.

"Alright. What do you need?"

Bud looked back at Chris blankly, after a few seconds Matt began to poke him in the ribs. "A battery, you need a battery." He whispered.

"Oh yeah a battery."

"For what?" Chris asked, keeping his cool, sure that he was either intimidating, or the kid was just shy.

"A Mustang." Bud answered, much more quickly this time.

"Do you know what year?"

Bud shrugged.

"Come on, you're making me look bad." Matt grumbled in a low tone. "It's a '65 or '66." Matt finally said,

"Alright. Do you know what motor?"

"Don't know." Matt finally said realizing the fatal error in not asking the old man. "We found it sitting under a tree."

"Don't worry about it. Was there a badge on the front fender in front of the wheels?"

"No, but it had this weird bumper on the front. It came down kinda low, and had a section cut out in the middle, almost like a half moon."

Chris glanced at Sung who was leaning against the counter, they were both on the same wave length.

"Where did you boys find this Mustang." Somebody asked, in another couple of seconds the owner of the voice emerged from an aisle holding a couple of bottles of cleaning supplies. Sung detached himself from the counter and quickly, but nonchalantly made his way to Bud and Matt.

"Hey, I'm going for coffee, you guys want something?" He said, throwing his arms around Bud and Matt's shoulders. He pushed them a little bit so they leaned forward, his hair was hiding his face from the other man. "Don't tell him where you found that car." He whispered quickly. "Last call you guys, you want anything?"

"Nah, thanks." Matt answered, "We're alright."

"So where did you boys find this car?" The other man asked again.

For a few seconds nobody said anything. Matt knew Bud would be useless, he never seemed to be able to think on his feet.

"We found it out back on my dad's property, said if I could get it running it was mine, figured I'd sell it to my friend here." Matt answered, hoping the other man couldn't hear the shake in his voice, or see his muscles shake with nervousness.

"Well here's my number, if you can't get it running and you want to sell it let me know." He made it sound as if it was a demand and not a question, before he walked out.

"Wow." Matt said. "Who does he think he is, and what does he want with that broken old Mustang?"

Chris looked at the two High School kids, not really sure what he should say, not even sure if he _should _say anything. "What did Sung say to you?" He finally asked.

"He told us not to say where we found the car." Matt answered.

"Why would he say that?" Bud asked.

"Well, is the car really on your dad's property?" Chris asked hoping the kid had made that up.

"Nah. I figured if he thought we found in the woods on my Dad's property he wouldn't look as hard."

"Good thinking, and to answer your question." Chris paused and fixed his gaze on Bud, "You may have found a very special car. I'll have to order a battery, have it here in a couple of days."

"Thanks." Bud said. He felt something strange in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn't sure why.

"Now." Chris said and clapped his hands together. "What are we going to do about your Camaro?"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

**A/N **

_Hey everybody. Hope this chapter has been worth the wait. And just a reminder that I do appreciate reviews and would really like to hear from some people. I know there's plenty of you out there, I can read my traffic stats._

_Margrave._


	5. Back On Track

Chapter 5 Back on Track

Takumi Fujiwara climbed into his Panda 86, it was his turn to pick up food for Project D. For a while the team had eaten the food at the hotel, but it was nothing special, and got boring in a hurry. So it was his turn, to go and get food, at least they had decided to try another American burger chain, Wendy's. Unlike the other burger place it couldn't be seen from they're floor of the hotel, but it was also a lot closer then the place Keisuke had volunteered to go to the other night. The Silver top TRD motor sang as the young ace eased out into traffic. Takumi reflected on Project D's stay so far in America, they'd been here for a few weeks now and except for impromptu drag races here and there had not competed yet. Part of it of course was getting used to the time difference between Japan and the United States. But Takumi was used to it, and he was ready to race.

Up and over the hill the 86 climbed, it was nothing compared to places where Project D had raced in Japan. The terrain was different, that Takumi wondered where the locals raced but as long as there were roads there would be people willing to race on them. At the stop light Takumi looked across at Wendy's and noticed there was a good number of cars in the parking lot, not your average family cars, there were a few of those, but the majority were performance cars. From a distance it was tough to tell, but it looked like there were at least a couple of Civics. He turned into the parking lot and went past the small gather of cars, a lot of which he didn't recognize. What was clear through the cars, but also through the looks he and the 86 were getting that these were racers.

"Hey nice car." Someone called sarcastically when Takumi got out. Takumi threw a sidelong glance and saw one man standing further out. "I used to have one of those when I learned to drive. I sold it because it was to slow."

"That's nice." Takumi said trying out some of his English. "I'm just here for some food."

"That's all that cars good for, don't get a triple cheeseburger or the car wont be able to get back up the hill afterwards."

Takumi rolled his eyes, this guy already didn't know what he was talking about, and besides, the team was waiting on him to get back with food, he couldn't get sucked into a race now. Still, it bothered him, it aggravated him, and as much he knew he needed to get back to the hotel with the food he still at least wanted a shot. When he came back out a few minutes latter there were a couple of people looking at the 86.

'Hey, nice 86." One of them said.

"Thanks." Takumi said a little wary of the two new comers.

"Don't worry about that guy, he's a Honda guy and thinks anything that doesn't have V-TEC written on the cam cover sucks."

"Oh, so is he the fastest around here?" Takumi asked as he put multiple Wendy's bags down on the passenger seat.

The other two looked at each other and then back at Takumi.

"You're not from around here are you?"

"Nope." Takumi offered. "I'm from Japan."

"That would explain the writing on the door and the steering wheel on the wrong right hand side." One of the two said before pausing. "What are you doing here?"

"The team I'm part of is here to race." Takumi said matter of factly. The other two men exchanged confused glances.

"Your _team?" _The taller of the two asked. "Where in Japan are you from?"

"We're all from Gunma prefecture, but a few different cities." Takumi offered. "But I have to get back to the hotel before the food gets cold." With that Takumi climbed into the 86 and fired it up.

Again, the two locals looked at each other, confused, they both knew by the sound that Takumi's 86 was not stock. They continued to gawk like a pair of morons until the 86 was out of view.

"Were those real Watanabes?" The taller asked in an almost stunned tone.

"I think so." The other said, still starring at the last spot he had seen the 86. "Did it sound to you like he was talking about an All Star team."

"Yeah, it did."

"We have to get ready. This could be tough."

"Took you long enough." Kenta said jokingly as Takumi came in the hotel room.

"Yeah, what happened?" Fumihiro said. "It didn't take me long to get there the other day. Hey who had the triple cheeseburger?"

"I did." Keisuke said, waiving his hand over his head.

"There were a couple of people who stopped and talked to me about the 86, oh and this one guy insulted it." Takumi explained. Silence reigned as the other members of Project D stopped and looked at Takumi, then to Ryosuke, whose calm expression did not betray the speed at which his mind was working,

"How many cars were there?" Kenta finally asked.

"I didn't count." Takumi responded, "But they took up a lot of the parking lot."

And that opened the floodgates, everybody had a question as they all waited anxiously for their first chance to race in America. Cabin fever had set in, and even talking about what might await them on the local race scene was a way to blow off some steam.

"Did you see who the fastest was?"

"Do you know where they race?"

Takumi was stunned at how his teammates bombarded him with questions.

"I really wasn't paying that much attention." Takumi admitted sheepishly. "I was just trying to get the food. I thought maybe Ryosuke would like to know."

"Hmm." Ryosuke said. "After we eat, Fumihiro, Takumi and I will got down there and have a look."

The sound of the air escaping from the other members of the team was almost audible, the drivers all sat there in a stunned silence. They had all bean hoping that they would get the chance to scope out the locals, but most importantly to get out among the sights, and sound of performance cars instead of staying cooped up in the hotel rooms.

"I hear your son found a good car." William Morris said into the telephone.

"Yeah, it's got potential." Kenneth Moody answered, "But its real rough right now."

"One of the kids at the gas station almost seemed more excited about it then you son did."

"You know Bud, he doesn't get excited about much. The way that car looked when he brought it home I can't blame him for not busting at the seems. Did you see it?"

"No." William said in a bit of a disappointed tone.

"Well you didn't miss much. What isn't covered in tree sap, the whole top half of the car is black with sap and the rest is a Petty blue color, most of the exhaust has rotted out and it has an extra pair of taillights. They look stupid but the kid wants to keep them."

"Extra taillights? What for?"

"I guess the car was in Europe, had to have them somewhere over there."

"So can I come over and see the car?"

"It's not here right now, that kid was hounding me to help him get it ready as quickly as possible. I pulled the motor and took a couple of days to go through it and he worked on cleaning all the tree crap off of it so it could get painted."

"How was the motor?"

"Pretty damn good, all the internals were in good shape. I replaced the oil pump because I was there." He shrugged even though William wouldn't be able to see the gesture over the phone. "Once its back from the paint shop we're going to upgrade the brakes and put a new transmission behind that motor."

"What do you think he plans on doing with it? I mean until he went after it you son had never really shown any interest in cars. Do you think he's going to race it."

"Why not?" Kenneth said shrugging again. "Wouldn't you?"

"Kenneth are you insane? There's really stiff competition on the Shammel right now and Bud's never raced before. Hell I haven't ever even seen him drive." William rattled off the words quickly, surprised at how nonchalant Kenneth could be about the whole prospect.

"Listen, I think I know what my son can handle." Kenneth responded. "The kids been driving the Shammel since he was 13, and he's been doing it in my car. That one he just bought will be a breeze to drive compared to the Galaxie."

William starred blankly back at the phone for a couple of seconds, stunned and annoyed at what he had jus heard. "You mean he's been making your deliveries for _five _years? Don't you think that's a little dangerous?"

"There's nobody around at that time of night." Kenneth answered. It was irritating, the way he gave an answer as if they should have been clear to William.

"What about official attention?" William persisted.

"The kid knows what to do."

William sighed, long and loud to make sure that Kenneth knew he was giving up that line of questioning. "What color is he going to paint it. I hope he's not going to keep it that blue color."

"He was going to until I showed him how they were originally painted. He decided to go with a dark metallic green and dark metallic silver. I hope it come out looking as good as he think it will."

"I'll have to see what its like when he gets it on the road."

"I think it will be a little while." Kenneth confided. "As excited about the car as the kid is I think he's going to hold off until he can take it to the races on Saturday night."

"Huh," William said, a little disappointed. He was excited about seeing the car for the first time, to hear the motor, and maybe even coax the kid into giving him a ride. "That's a bit risky. Somebody will be gunning for him the first night."

"Yeah, I know." Kenneth said slowly, but with confidence.

"I hope you're right." William offered.

The 440 cubic inch V8 rumbled away a few inches in front of Brian Jennings feet, he could feel the heat it gave off through his shoes and on his shins. Even in early June North Carolina was hot, and Brian had the seat stains on his T-shirt to prove it. No matter how hot it was though the thought adding air conditioning had never crossed his mind. He was just glad that his 1969 Dodge Charger was Hemi Orange instead of black. His left arm rested on the top of the door and the wind moved around stray locks of his sandy blonde hair.

Brian and his Charger hailed from Monroe North Carolina, but he had taken an opportunity to go for a drive when he got out of work. Now after 45 minutes of driving he found himself a little ways east of Denton. Brian had no plan other then tog o for a drive, he wasn't looking for a race, he wasn't out to practice or scout any competition. Just a nice leisurely drive. He was so relaxed that he even surprised himself when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Reflexively he snapped upright and began looking over his shoulder to try and see the car. Trees on the side of the road obscured his vision and his heart beat faster at the prospect.

The Charger rolled to a stop, and after a quick check to make sure nobody was coming the opposite direction Brian wound up the 440 ad spun the car around in a ballet of tire smoke and bellowing engine. The big Mopar fishtailed before Brian brought it back under control and rocketed back in the opposite direction. He slid sideways into the parking lot. He hadn't been seeing things, they're right in front of him. He hoped out of his car to take a closer look, the color scheme wasn't one he had ever seen before, but it looked right, until he got to the back.

"What the hell?" Brian uttered when he caught sight of the extra pair of taillights.

"It's not for sale." A voice said from behind Brian.

"What?" He said turning around.

"It's not for sale." The older man said again, more slowly this time, he had an edge to his voice that always had a little attitude in it.

"Oh I wasn't looking to buy. You just don't see one of these everyday." Brian offered. It rubbed him the wrong way that this guy was giving him a tough time but he had to let it slide. "Did you do the paint?" Brian finally asked.

"Yeah." The older man answered, it was clear by the tone of his voice that he wasn't really happy about it, "I don't like the color combination, not what this car should have. I offered to fix the rear valance panel and take out the extra taillights, but the owner said no."

Maybe he's just cheap."

"Nah, not for what the paint job on this car cost, that would have been peanuts, but I do what I'm paid to.

"Where's the owner from, I'd like to get a chance to talk to him?"

"He's from Denton. You'd probably stand a good chance of finding him out on the Shammel Saturday night."

"You think this guy run the Shammel Highway?" Brian asked.

"Look at the car wouldn't you?"

"Yeah I would." Brian admitted, scratching the back of his head. "You do good work. Thanks for the info." Brian said before making his way back to his car. After firing up the big 440 he continued on the road towards Denton.

Ryosuke sat at the small picnic table with Takumi and Matsumoto. They had come back to Wendy's to see what the local race scene looked like, and to avoid attention had driven one of Project D's rented Ford vans. Nobody would pay them any attention. Ryosuke took in the whole scene, Takumi and Matsumoto sat eating frostys. There was some good stuff out there. There was also a lot of middle of the road car out there too. Like Takumi had taught him though, you could not judge a driver by the car.

What was surprising was the variety of cars, there were a lot of Japanese cars which surprise Ryosuke a little bit, at the same time making his job easier since he already was familiar with the counterparts at home gave him a very good baseline for his analysis, allowing him more time to concentrate on the American and other foreign cars. This was the first time that Ryosuke had seen some of the cars from Europe, especially the Volkswagens and Audis. He had read about them, but like most of the American cars never seen one in the flesh before. They really weren't what he had been expecting, but they were here, and they had to be considered.

"You want to take a closer look?" Matsumoto finally asked.

"Yes." Ryosuke nodded and got up.

The three of them made their way back down to the parking lot. Ryosuke had asked Takumi and Matsumoto to come because they were harder to rile up. As good as his younger brother had gotten at keeping his anger under control he and Kenta were still the most likely to say something that would upset one of the locals. And knowing the two of them it would escalate quickly. Takumi was likely to let it slide, and Matsumoto, well he didn't even have a car, but he was a mechanic.

They made their way between the assembled cars. Ryosuke leading the way, paying more attention to the cars then either of his two companions. In this situation Ryosuke knew from years of experience that there was only a handful of people who were serious contenders, mixed in among them were those just starting out, trying to establish themselves and hone their skills. There were good more skilled drivers, but the vast majority were people with cars that looked good and made nice sounds, but the drivers themselves didn't have the talent to match. There were also spectators. They often provided the best indication of what group a particular or driver belonged to, and to everybody there the three member of Project D looked just like spectators. Ryosuke watched the crowd just as much as he looked at the cars, he had started to narrow down the list of contenders, he would go back and pay them extra attention. The most startling thing he noticed was that the crowd seemed to be perpetually looking for someone else. Ryosuke had seen that look before, they were waiting for the best local racer, he wasn't even there! _Next time. _Ryosuke thought and he began to collect data on the competitors that were there.

"Ashamed to bring that old back here?" A voice called from behind the small group. At first Ryosuke didn't turn around, he didn't think the person was talking to them. "Come on, I'm talking to you 86 boy."

All three turned around at the same time. Sure enough it was the same guy who insulted Takumi when he was picking up the food.

"I see you brought friends." He said. "I hope they have better cars then your, or it really wouldn't be worth coming for you guys tonight."

"We didn't come here to race." Takumi said between clenched teeth.

"Even if you'd brought that old pile of junk you wouldn't have been here to race." The other said.

Ryosuke looked at Takumi, he could almost see him shake with anger. "I think we should get the team." Ryosuke said.

"Oh, and what team would that be? I know all the team worth knowing around here."

"Project D." Ryosuke said cooling, not betraying any of the pride he felt in his tem. "And we're not from around here. We're from Gunma, Japan."

"As long as I get 86 boy here I don't care where you're from." He shot back.

Ryosuke had seen this same type of person before. He was the type who always thought he was better, but the existence of a better team made him compensate for not being the bet by being the most vocal. Unless this area had unusually high talent this type of driver did not present a threat to any of the members of Project D.

It took only a few minutes to with the 86 and the rest of Project D. Takumi had the first race if it could even have been called that. Not knowing who Takumi was the local challenged him to a highway loop. Both drivers would leave from the parking lot of Wendy's and get on the Highway headed south, This was the Honda drivers preferred race, he had fitted his car with a bottle of nitrous oxide, and against most opponents it was good enough to open a substantial lead that was easy to hold. Over confident that the 86 wouldn't be able to catch him e used the nitrous just after getting on the highway.

Two exits south, which was only about 5 miles Takumi made up the gap. The off ramp was a continuous right hang loop, and the front wheel drive Honda had to slow down much more then Takumi's 86 to avoid understeering. The silvertop TRD motor allowed Takumi to keep the gap smaller then then most opponents, using his famous Kamikaze late braking technique he set the 86 into a drift more inches from the Honda Civic's back bumper. The two cars accelerated off the ramp and onto a bridge with two lanes headed in either direction. Takumi was able to pass his opponent easily, and drifted the 86 back onto the Highway headed north. A few minutes latter when the 86 slid in a perfectly executed drift into the Wendy's parking lot there was no mistaking who had won. Project D had announced their presence with authority.

Ryosuke smile to himself, in the excitement nobody else noticed, but he knew the best local racers would now come and find them. It was only a matter of time.

Hi Everybody,

Sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear what people have to say.

Thanks,

Margrave.


	6. Moonshine Sonata

Chapter 6 Moonshine Sonata.

Three weeks! It had rained for three Saturdays in a row, and this one made four as Bud looked out the dining room window, but it was perhaps the most discouraging of them all because it wasn't raining particularly hard. There were sprinkles sporadically but the clouds never seemed to clear away and it remained damp and misty the whole day. At least the last three Saturdays it had rained hard steadily so there was no possibility of people running on the Shammel. Bud looked at the mist, felt the rawness of the air in his fingers, it made them a little sore and stiff, but he wanted to race. As stiff as his fingers were he wanted to wrap them around the wood rimmed steeringwheel, and the black shifter knob. He was aggravated because he knew the light mist that hovered over the area and the threat that at any moment it might rain would keep all the good cars and drivers home.

In the barn his car had been hiding under some old blankets since Bud and his father had put the finishing touches on it. As much as he was dieing to drive it Bud had kept the car under wraps because even though he and Mallory were officially "boyfriend and girlfriend" he still wanted desperately to impress her, and showing up on a Saturday night would be a good way to do that. Of course he knew there was also the possibility that he would make a complete fool of himself and he knew it. _"I would probably pick the wrong car." _His statement echoed in the back of his head, as confident as he was, there was still the chance that he could really look like a fool in front of Mallory. The phone began to ring shaking Bud from his thoughts.

"Hello."

"Hey Bud." Mallory said, she was cheerful as she almost always was. "Watcha doin' tonight?"

"I dunno. I was hoping to go to the Shammel tonight, but I don't think anybody will be there."

"No, I think you're right." She said, "So that means you could come with me and Michelle to go see the Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

"Um, I don't know." Bud offered, images of strangely dressed people, in ridiculous makeup lining up outside a theatre played through his mind, "That's not really my thing." He said, fumbling for good excuse, he didn't want to go, but he also didn't want to offend Mallory, it had taken him far to long to have a relationship with Mallory and he didn't want to mess them up now. But he really didn't want to go.

"Well we don't really have to go if you don't want. Michelle just really wanted me to ask because you're the only person we know who can drive after midnight, and she wants to go because Jake is running it but it starts at midnight and she would need someone to drive home."

"I have to be up in the morning." Bud said. "And I had a long day at work today." Not only was he not excited about going, but it could possibly cause problems with some family obligations.

"Oh come on Bud." He could almost see the face Mallory was making, but she wasn't pushing to hard, because she didn't really want to go either, but she did want to see Bud. "We'll take Michelle's car and you can sleep in the back on the way there."

"Where is it?" Bud asked.

"Winston-Salem. It's at midnight."

The different possibilities ran through Bud's mind, he could go and hang out with Mallory, which he very much wanted to do. But because of the time he could get in trouble if he got home to late. Bud's stomach twisted itself in knots a sinking feeling gnawing at him. One misstep and he feared he would upset Mallory, something he wanted to avoid at all costs, but on the other hand he could also upset his father, but it was Mallory. . .

"Alright, I'll go." He finally said reluctantly. "What time are you going to pick me up?"

"You will? Awesome!" Mallory said almost before Bud had finished his answer, "We'll be there at 9:30."

They weren't there at 9:30, Bud waited nervously like he had before, sure they would be there because they needed him. Ten minutes latter Michelle's blue Chevrolet Lumina rolled into the driveway. Bud was out the door before the car came to a stop.

"Hey." Mallory said and gave Bud a quick smile, and kiss. Bud could tell by the way she was acting that something was already not going according to plan.

"Hey Bud." Michelle said over her shoulder as he climbed into the backseat.

"What's up?" Bud said more as a greeting then a question.

"We gotta go pick up Karin." Michelle said, and Bud noticed her makeup for the first time, bright read lips and heavy eye shadow.

"Oh, where's she live?"

"Monroe." Michelle answered and headed south. Bud looked over at Mallory, she gave him a furtive smile hat said she wasn't happy about it either.

"Isn't that like 45 minutes from here?" Bud asked.

"Yeah, but we have plenty of time. You're gonna stay at Karin's tonight, right Mallory? You can too Bud, I'm sure her Dad will be alright with it."

"I can't." Bud said apologetically. "I have to be up in the morning and my Dads kind of old fashioned he'd kill me if I was out all night."

"So wait." Mallory said, "What are we going to do about your car? Bud's going to need a way to get home, and he's the only one who can drive after midnight."

"Oh, you can just leave it at the factory by your house. I'll get it tomorrow with Karin. You're sleeping over tonight?"

"I don't know." Mallory said nervously. "I told my Mom that I would be at your house and she kind of expects me to be there." She looked over at Bud, 'I'm sorry' she mouthed to him, all she got in return was a shrug, which only made her more nervous. Bud was already hard to read, and now all she could get for a response was a shrug. Did that mean he was ok with the situation, or was he mad because she had coaxed him into coming and now the plans had completely changed. All of it because Michelle wanted to see Jake. Mallory grabbed Bud's hand and moved into the middle seat. "We'll still find a way to have fun." She said, her voice so cheery and full of optimism that it was impossible not to believe her.

Mallory and Michelle chatted the whole way to Karin's house, Bud spent most of his time looking out the window paying attention to how to get to Karin's house, he knew he couldn't count on Karin or Michelle being awake to give him directions on how to get back to Karin's house. Outside the world was dark, extra dark because the clouds that blacked out the moon conspired with the mist and light rain to diffuse any light. Streetlights and headlights made the wet pavement appear unnaturally bright, and outside of that super bright ten foot sphere of light everything beyond was an impenetrable wall of blackness. Bud sighed to himself as the V6 echoed oddly in his ears, the wipers clapped and squeaked, and water hissed under the tires. He hated driving in the rain at night.

"You guys coming in?" Michelle asked when they pulled up to the house, "I'm going to call Jake at the theatre."

"Nah, I think we'll stay here." Mallory said.

"Alright, back in a couple." Michelle said and climbed out of the car.

The drivers door shut with a solid thud, Bud watched Michelle walk up to the front door in disbelief, she was wearing fishnet stocking, with high heels and a short skirt. He looked back at Mallory who was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt against the dank night air, very glad that she wasn't dressed like Michelle.

"I really appreciate this." She finally said, and nuzzled closer.

"It's alright." Bud said, a bit of annoyed rumble in his voice. "I wasn't doing anything tonight."

"I know. But you didn't want to come out tonight. You can sleep on the way there if you want, I know you're tired."

"I'll be okay for awhile." Bud responded, and the two waited for Michelle and Karin to come back out. After what seemed like a long time they finally came out.

"So what did Jake say?" Mallory asked as the other two piled into the car.

"He said it starts at 12:10, but he said me and Karin could stay at his place tonight. Said you guys could too if you wanted."

"I gotta think about that." Mallory said, "Besides Bud will have to take your car back. I don't think I want to do that." Mallory shrugged. Michelle was really good at putting her into these position, she seemed to do it all the time even if it wasn't on purpose. Despite how many times Mallory told her friend that her parents were stricter than others, Michelle never seemed to realize what was going to cause a problem for Mallory until Mallory told her, and now she had dragged Bud into it.

"Are you going to go to sleep?" She asked Bud.

"Yeah." He said and leaned his head back on the package shelf.

"Don't do that you'll hurt your neck, lay down."

"I won't fit." Bud said, knowing he wouldn't be able to fully stretch out. Mallory smiled at him then moved over back behind the driver's seat and patted her lap.

"Now you can." She smiled, one of her biggest goofiest smiles.

"Okay." Bud said and laid down across the back seat, Mallory's lap standing in for a pillow.

"Night." Mallory said and kissed Bud on the forehead.

"Oh, hey put this in." Karin said from the front seat. There was a series of clicks as the cassette was put in the player and music pumped from the speakers.

_Man I can't believe this. _Bud thought to himself. He closed his eyes even though he didn't want to go to sleep, he just didn't want to deal with Michelle and Karin. It really didn't matter, he knew that as long as he was home in time to make the delivery that his Dad wouldn't care, he was a little worried that he might, but his Dad didn't really seem to worry to much. Mallory that was the whole reason anyways, he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could it didn't matter if she _really _wanted him to go to whatever it was, he would have gone because she was there. Despite the music that was a little to loud, the chatter, and the occasional off key singing from the front seat, Bud dozed off.

"Where are we?" Bud Heard a distant distressed voice as he woke up.

"No I know where I'm going." Michelle said, agitated, "The theatres just over there."

The numbers on the clock were fuzzy as Bud blinked sleep from his eyes, when he was finally able to focus on them they showed 12:06.

"Michelle, its back that way!" Karin said, almost yelling at her friend behind the wheel.

"Uh, do you want me to drive?" Bud said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"We gotta get to the theatre first." Michelle insisted as she turned right onto another street.

"Alright." Bud shrugged.

"Mornin' sleepyhead." Mallory whispered in his ear.

Bud and Mallory watched from the back seat as Michelle and Karin fumbled their way through the streets of Winston-Salem looking for the theatre where Jake was hosting Rocky Horror. The same street signs went by outside the window, it seemed like they were going around in circles, but after ten minutes of groping around they found the theatre.

"I left a message for Jake." Michelle said as she sat down in the back seat. "He's gonna call us at Karin's house when he's done."

"So they won't let you in?" Mallory asked.

"No." Michelle said, clearly agitated. "He said we were too late. You gonna stay with us tonight?"

"I don't think so." Mallory hesitated.

"Alright, well you can if you want." Michelle yawned.

"Thanks." Mallory said, not sure that her friend had herd her before joining Karin in the backseat.

Navigating through the streets of Winston-Salem Bud was already out of his element, even after midnight there were still enough cars on the road to make it difficult to get to where he wanted to go sometimes. After a couple of wrong turns through the mist and traffic lights Bud eventually found Highway 52 and headed out of the city. As busy as some of the streets were in the city Highway 52 was the opposite with room Bud the pedal down and maintained 90 miles per hour, even though the cars speedometer only went to 85.

"Do you mind if I put another tape on? I can only listen to the same thing _five _times. Mallory said jokingly.

"Oh I don't care." Bud said. "I wasn't really listening to the music anyways."

Mallory rummaged around in the armrest for a couple of seconds and pulled out the newest Green Day tape. "Here we go." She said before popping it into the player, then she folded the armrest back and moved over to sit next to Bud.

"So what are you going to do tonight?" Bud asked as the music began to play.

"I don't know." Mallory responded a little nervously. "I could sleep in the car at the mill."

"Why don't you just go home?"

"My mom thinks I'm going to be staying with Michelle, she'd kill me if I walked in at 1:30. So the car it is for me tonight."

"Nah, that won't work, you can stay at my place tonight, we can go sleep in the barn."

Butterflies immediately started fluttering in Mallory's stomach and heart, she wanted to spend the night with Bud, but it could get her into trouble, not only with her parents but with Bud too, he might _expect _something.

"Alright." She answered quicker then she wanted to, even surprising herself.

By the time they were on Route 47 the tape was on its second time around. Mallory glanced over at the speedometer and had to take a second look as her mouth fell open, the needle was much further to the right then she expected, alarmingly far to the right. Calm, cool and collected, that's all that was on Bud's face, his eyes were more focused then normal, but he was so relaxed it was startling. His left hand rested loosely on the steeringwheel at 12 o'clock, and his right arm was draped around her shoulder, holding her close.

"Bud." She said a little quietly, fearing what would happen if she broke his concentration.

"What's up?"

"How fast are we going?"

"Hmm, oh 60." Bud answered after glancing down at the speedometer. He didn't flinch, the car continued to hurtle its way down the Shammel Highway, the road had almost entirely dried out from earlier, but there were still patches of water in places. _I can't believe this. _Mallory thought. _He's hustling this totally average sedan down the Shammel, and he's not even breaking a sweat. What the hell has he been doing that he's got this kind of skill?_

•••

_So make the best of this test and don't ask why_

_It's not a question but a lesson learned in time._

The first verse of the next to last song on the tape ended as Bud pulled Michelle's car into the parking lot of the mill just down the street from his house.

"Thanks Bud." Mallory said again, no matter how many times she'd thanked her boyfriend it didn't seem to be enough, "I'm sure you want to get home so you can get some sleep." She reached for the door handle.

"Hold on, I just want to listen to this song again." It was kind of strange, well at least compared to most of the rest of the songs. There was an acoustic guitar, and strings, it stood out, it was different, and Bud liked it.

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end its right,_

_I hope you had the time of your life._

The last few notes drifted away and for the few moments there was silence. Bud leaned over to Mallory and planted a kiss square on Mallory's lips, she smiled at Bud and pulled him closer for a second more passionate kiss, they embraced each other for a few moments before the loud 'click' from the tape deck made them both jump.

"Come on." Bud smiled, "We'd better get going."

There was a light on in the barn as the two teenagers approached in the night. Bud's heart began to pound faster. Usually his Dad would have gone to bed by now, but Bud usually wasn't getting home at this time of night either. _He's gonna freak out. _Bud thought briefly as they walked up, his Dad would not be happy about Mallory being here, especially when Bud still had work to do. He was willing to risk his Dad getting pissed off because he was helping Mallory out, he was doing the right thing. Or at least that was what he was telling himself, the truth was he had invited Mallory to stay was because he wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to hold her through the night, and he was 18, and teenage boys do stupid things for girls sometimes. Inside there was only the two cars, Snap-On rolling toolboxes, with a note held to it by a magnet. Bud heaved a sigh of relief as he snatched the note off of the toolbox.

_Didn't know you were going to be out so late, the car's ready to go. You know what to do. Don't make a habit of staying out so late._

"Thanks Dad." Bud muttered to himself as he balled up the piece of paper and tossed it in the direction of the trash barrel.

A lift, tool boxes, tire machine, a wheel balancer, and alignment equipment. All things that most car guys or girls like Mallory would love to have at their disposal, but few had all of it, and here it was in Bud's barn, the kid who didn't even know that Ford had stopped building the Galaxie before either of them had been born. She gawked and she knew it, but how could you not. In the process of checking off all of the items in the barn that were on her and her Dad's wish list Mallory had missed the car sitting in the middle of it.

"Hey, is this your Dad's car?" She asked the dark blue Ford Galaxie that sat in the bay wasn't really anything special to look at. "Is he restoring it?" The paint was faded, and the interior didn't match, blue with red interior was a really bad color combo, the seats weren't even from a Galaxie. . .

"No, he still uses it." Bud said honestly.

"Wait a minute!" Mallory said, instantly more excited than anybody should be at 1:30. She lunged to the front fender, caught sight of the gold Thunderbird badge with 427 emblazoned across its chest and wings. She went quickly back to the driver's door and looked at the interior again, no heater, no radio, tachometer mounted on the dash, the seats. . . "Bud! Give me that magnet!" She said holding out her hand, eyes wide with excitement.

"Alright." Bud said, handing her the magnet as quickly as he could.

"Good, this looks like a strong one." She placed it on the fender and let go, a second latter the magnet clattered to the floor. Almost before the magnet had hit the ground Mallory was standing at the front of the car. Bud looked on quizzically.

"It is!" She gasped.

"What?" Bud asked as he stepped next to her.

"Do you know what this is?" She asked in disbelief.

"My Dad's Galaxie." Bud answered.

"It's an R-code lightweight!" Mallory exclaimed, then punched him in the arm. "And it's the car that Chris and Jason have been looking for! You're Dad's the fastest on the Shammel Highway! Why didn't you tell me you jerk?" She hit him again, but not really hard.

"Because my Dad hasn't driven this car in a long time."

"Wait what?" Mallory spluttered.

"My Dad hasn't driven this car in like five years."

"So who has, because if there was another one of these things around somebody would know about it."

"Me." Bud said, as if the answer should have been obvious. "I deliver stuff at night."

"What kind of stuff?" Mallory stopped to glower at Bud, hands on hips.

"Moonshine. There's a tank in the trunk, and one under the back seat.

"You're joking." Mallory said as she recovered from the shock. "First you tell me that you've been driving this beast since you were 13, then you tell me it so you can deliver moonshine? Do you know how illegal that is?" She was incredulous. "God, what'll happen if your ever caught?"

"I've never even had anybody follow me for more than a few minutes, and besides we have a few tricks up our sleeve." Bud paused. "It's a stupid law anyways. It's just so they can tax the liquor anyways."

"I suppose." Mallory shrugged, her anger simmering just below the surface.

"Come on, we gotta make the run. Or do you want to stay here?" Bud spoke so earnestly that she couldn't really be mad, besides it was something he was doing for his family. She glanced at the blue Galaxie, and then back at Bud, how many times would she get the opportunity to ride in a machine like that. . .on the Shammel Highway.

"Alright." She said reluctantly, it was exciting, dangerous.

"Let's get going then." Bud hoped into the car, followed closely by Mallory. The small bucket seats, and lack of center console in the big Ford made it feel like the two were sitting mile apart. The starter cranked the high compression motor a couple of times before it ignited and the car was filled with the rumble of the big engine. Driving this beast every night Bud had become accustomed to certain things, Mallory on the other hand was acutely aware that she could feel the pulse of the motor reverberating in her diaphragm, the slight quiver that ran through the car from time to time as it warmed up.

With a deftness and skill that surprised Mallory, Bud eased the monstrously powerful sedan out of the garage like it was nothing more than a compact. They moved at the speed limit out around downtown Denton and picked up Route 47 South of the starting line. Once on 47 Bud mashed the gas pedal winding 427 cubic inches of Ford V8 to its 7,000 RPM redline. The roar was deafening and Mallory was violently shoved back in her seat with the sudden burst of acceleration. There was a brief pause as Bud grabbed third, Mallory was pushed by an invisible hand back into her seat, the motor that reverberated in her midsection not long ago now coursed through her whole body, her knuckles were white around the arm rest on the door from the sheer shock of the event, and she was grinning like a fool.

Outside trees, fields and fences rushed by in a dark blur, all familiar places that she had been passed over and over again, since she had started racing, but she had never done it in the passenger seat, and never quiet this fast. Eyes locked dead ahead Bud's only concern was on piloting the mighty Ford, he was more concentrated then Mallory had ever seen him, focused, determined, until they'd hit the Shammel she never knew that Bud had this side in him. She watched him for little stretches at a time, alternately wanting to whack him and call him a jerk for keeping this from her, and being afraid to breathe on the off chance it would disturb his concentration, and send the car and them into a field, or worse a tree.

_I wonder how fast I can go before she freaks out? _Bud thought, out of the corner of his eye he could see Mallory glance over at him every so often. He really wondered if he was impressing her, because he desperately wanted to impress her, to be cool. Something gnawed at his stomach the whole time, the doubt, the fear that he wasn't doing enough, that one misstep would cost him his relationship with Mallory. Little did he know he had nothing to worry about.

Half an hour latter Bud backed the big blue Galaxie into the barn, and the pair climbed out. They looked at each other across the roof of the car. Mallory smiling from ear to ear. When they met at the back bumper Mallory gave Bud a playful shove.

"Why were you hiding this from me you big jerk?" She said between laughs.

"I dunno." Bud shrugged, he was smiling, Mallory's wonderful laughter told him that he had at least not made a fool of himself. "I wasn't sure I was fast enough."

"Really Bud?" She laughed again. "I don't think you ever have to worry about that." She paused and put a hand on her hip, "Don't expect my cloths to come flying off though." She joked with just enough edge in her voice to convey warning.

"I wasn't, I mean I wouldn't." Bud stammered as his cheeks turned red.

Bud grabbed a couple of pillows, found a blanket from the house and returned a few minutes later.

"Good, now we can get some sleep." Mallory said as she eased herself down next to Bud.

"Yeah." Bud said as he held her.

"Bud?" Mallory asked softly, half hoping that he was already asleep.

"Yeah, Mallory?"

"Why do you like me?" It was a stupid thing to ask, and she knew it, but still she couldn't hide the quiver in her voice, or the fact that she had to know why Bud didn't answer right away.

"Because." He finally said, "You're different, you're not like the other girls at school, you're not one of the brainiacks, or cheerleaders who think they're better than everybody else. Because you're not afraid to speak your mind and you stand up for what you believe in. It definitely doesn't hurt that you drive a cool car." He said making the last part a joke, they both chuckled a little. Bud squeezed her a little, not sure if it was the right thing to do, but that's what happens in the movies, right? "I don't understand why people at school don't like you."

"Because." Mallory said quietly, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I speak my mind, and stand up for what I believe in." She sniffled, using the corner of the blanket to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "And because when I told my first boyfriend that I wouldn't sleep with him he dumped me and started rumors about me." She continued to choke out the words in between sobs. Bud's stomach sank, he felt horrible, it was his fault that she was upset, that she was crying. He never should have brought it up.

"I'm sorry." Bud said, his words sounding hollow and empty in his own ears. He wanted to do something to make her feel better, but he didn't have a clue what to do, so he just held on. "I'm sorry." Bud offered again.

"For what?" Mallory asked. "It's not your fault, you didn't do anything."

"Yeah, but I brought it up."

"It's ok." She sniffled. "Its how I got so good on the Shammel Highway. After he broke up with me I drove around, crying. I didn't want to be around people, I just wanted to be left alone, and pulled over to the side on Yates Rd. I sat there crying for a while until cars started showing up. When I saw what was going I kept going back, and then I started practicing, first just on Friday, but then more frequently. It helped me get over being hurt. It gave me something to focus on so I could ignore the pain. It became about going faster, and every new challenge that I overcame out there was one more thing piled on up to insulate me from the pain, to help me forget. So I guess it was really a good thing." She sniffled. "It's ok though. Chris and the other guys accept me for who I am, and you do too."

"Yeah," Bud said, "Mallory?"

"Yeah."

"I love you." He said and gave her a squeeze.

"What?" She chocked.

"I love you." Bud said, he could feel the head bubbling in his cheeks.

"I love you too. I just didn't think I would hear anybody say those words to me."

Bud gave her another reassuring squeeze. Neither of them said anything else before drifting off to sleep, secure in each other's arms.

_Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right, _

_I hope you had the time of your life._


	7. Saturday Night Special

Chapter 7 Saturday Night Special.

"I still can't believe those guys." Keisuke said, agitated.

"Mike and his team?" Ryosuke said, more as a statement of fact to confirm what his brother was talking about.

"Yeah, of all the sneaky under handed things to do. They knew exactly what we were doing when we were doing it.

"Yes, but how much tougher would our lives have been had they not invited us to use their facilities?" Ryosuke paused. "Given the opportunity, would you not have done the same thing? This is competition, and true competitors are always looking for an edge. Mike saw an opportunity and took it. Let's not forget whose house this is, and who came with us the other night to Roy's?"

"I know, but it's different Aniki." Keisuke said.

"How is it different?" Ryosuke asked calmly. After years of racing with his brother Keisuke knew the beginning of a lecture when he heard one. "In Medway Mike and his team did have the advantage or being able to see what we were doing to prepare our cars for the races, but they were also running a business, so they could not pay as much attention to us as you think. They were also relatively unfamiliar with our cars. Even though the 86, FC, FD, and S14 were all sold in the United States they never had the same level of performance as our home market cars. Because they were never sold in as great number here they also have not been able to foster the same following as in Japan. . ."

". . . They should have," Keisuke interrupted, "They're better than what the American's drive."

"Do you mean what Japanese companies sold here, or what the American sell here?"

"Everything." Keisuke said with indignation. "I still haven't seen an American car that really makes me pay attention, sure the Mustangs and Camaros are rear wheel drive, so that's a start, but they don't handle as well, they're motors are outdated, the suspensions are crude, ugh." Keisuke groaned.

"Have you driven one?" Ryosuke asked. "This is a free market economy, the mere fact that fewer Japanese performance cars were sold here seems to contradict your statement." Ryosuke stopped and looked at his brother for a few seconds.

"The American cars are so much cheaper." Keisuke finally said in disgust. "You can't compete like that in a free market."

"If the cars were as superior as you believe people would be willing to spend the money. The car market in America is drastically different from that at home. In Japan there is significantly more competition, especially in performance cars. At home Mazda, Toyota, Nissan, Mitsubishi, and Subaru all sell performance cars, in addition to all of those cars you have Ford, Chevrolet, and Dodge selling performance cars in America, not to mention other makers from Europe that aren't seen as often in Japan."

"I guess," Keisuke said begrudgingly, "But I still think our cars are better."

"Getting back to the point however, here we are up against the same problem that Mike was up against with us. We are confronted with a group of cars that we're not familiar with because they were not sold in Japan, and the few examples that have been imported are in the hands of collectors who rarely use them. Instead of having a passing knowledge of the vehicles like Mike and his team did, we have Stevie at our disposal, who knows these cars better than any of us could hope to learn in our time here."

"It doesn't matter Aniki, it was still underhanded, and dishonest. The only reason I'm not angrier about it is because we won most of the races."

Keisuke, we didn't win those races because Mike failed to understand the capabilities of our cars, or our drivers, we won those races because we controlled the majority of the variables."

"What?" Keisuke asked, his mouth hanging open a fraction of an inch.

"In racing there are variables, and there are different types of variables."

"Of course Aniki." Keisuke said impatiently, wanting to be almost anywhere else.

"What you need to realize." Ryosuke continued, "Is that there are three types of variables in racing, and we only exert control over one of those. The first group is the most obvious, the environmental group. This includes not only the weather conditions but that of the course itself because it forms part of the environment we'll be racing in. Things like the condition of the road, the texture of the pavement, the width, the transitions from one section of pavement to the next, the proximity of obstacles like mailboxes, trees and houses, the locations of leaves, branches and other road debris. We have very little if any control over this group of variables.

"The second group is our opponent. Again we have little if any control over this group. His temperament, his car, how prepared he is, his aggressiveness, and course knowledge. We can estimate his vehicle performance by taking carful not of modifications, and comparing against stock specifications, as well as observations if we have an opportunity to observe a race. There are a few things we can do to affect the driver's temperament, but these have less and less effect the more experienced the opponent."

Keisuke looked at his brother, knowing that he would not be free to go until Ryosuke was finished. So for everything he said made sense.

"The third variable falls completely under our control, and that's our own preparation, hew well each of us knows the course, how well the cars are set up for the course, the suspension settings, the tune of the motor. Knowing those places where you can find that extra five centimeters and knowing that the car will hold on at the limit. The goal is to be so familiar with the course and have the confidence in the car that you no longer have to think about, you can focus on exploiting weaknesses in the other driver's technique, or a limitation in his car that can be exploited.

"What Mike did was try to give his team another advantage, to take an edge by exploiting a variable that he now had some understanding of. It is sneaky, yes, but he was looking for a competitive edge, he wanted to win, and is driven to win, that kind of determination is tough to find in many street racers. The majority of street racers do not have that drive, or commitment, they do it for fun, or to be 'cool,' perhaps even to impress their friends. But most very quickly reach either their talent or monetary limits and that is either where they maintain, or quit.

"If pushed, Mike would go one of two ways," Ryosuke paused, Keisuke waited, he was interested to hear what his brother had to say. It wasn't really changing his opinion of their previous opponent, but the theory like all of Ryosuke's others was sound.

Ryosuke picked up where he'd left off. "Like yourself and Takumi Mike has two paths, when someone starts to push him. He will either rise to the occasion learn from every new challenge and continue to refine his technique and become a good perhaps even world class racer, or team manager. Or of course he will fail, drop off, he will return to that small and winding road around the lake and rule their until his reflexes diminish or he gets tired of not being challenged and quits."

"What do you think will happen?" Keisuke asked, knowing that his brother already had an answer that would more than likely turn out to be true.

"I don't know, he hasn't been challenged enough."

"You sound like you're recruiting him almost." Keisuke said with disdain that turned to mild shock when his brother didn't respond right away.

"Recruit for what?" Ryosuke said matter of factly, but Keisuke was sure that he could hear a little hint of melancholy in his brother's voice. "Besides, I don't have enough information to come up with an accurate simulation. Even if I wanted to recruit someone like Mike I would need considerably more information before I could make a credible assessment as to whether he would be able to handle the pressure of a professional racing career."

"Do you plan on trying to get more data? Are you going to watch him race somebody else?"

"No." The older Takahashi brother said. "I was merely stating a fact that I don't have enough data to make a fair assessment about Mike's ability, and potential for a professional racing career."

"Alright Aniki." Keisuke offered.

•••

"Do you see that up ahead?" Brian Jennings asked his cousin Liam riding shotgun.

"What, that old Caprice in front of us?" Liam responded, he was sprawling out on the wide bucket seat Dodge had seen fit to grace the charger with.

"No, up ahead of the Caprice." Brian said getting a little agitated with his cousin.

"Funny thing about Caprices, they're big and tough to see around." Liam responded. He leaned a little to his right to see if he could catch a glimpse of the other car Brian was talking about. The road curved gently to the right allowing Liam a handful of seconds to identify the vehicle in question.

He didn't need that long.

"That looks like Ty's car." Liam finally offered. Looking at the Calypso Coral Boss Mustang.

"Now, what do you suppose he's doing up here?" Brian asked.

"Probably the same thing we're doing up here, looking to see what's happening on the Shammel Highway."

"I'm gonna pass 'em!" Brian stated emphatically. "Show that Ford boy whose boss."

Liam rolled his eyes and pushed himself higher in his seat. "Come on Brian, I don't think now is the right time. We're going to the same place he'll know what we're doing. And you don't want to piss him off before the night even starts."

Brian looked over at his cousin with a devious grin that told Liam that his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

Letting out a loud rebel yell Briand Shifted down to third gear, the 440 Mopar big block joining his call. The two young men were pushed back in their seats by the sudden acceleration. The Charger moved out around the Caprice, catching and passing Ty in one swift move. From the driver's seat he let out a loud _Yeehaw, _as they thundered pass.

"Friggin' Jennings." Tyrone uttered as he watched the Orange Charger speed away, anger bubbling just below the surface, it was neither the time nor the place.

Bud stepped out onto the porch of his house and took a deep breath, the setting sun's rays fell warm on his shoulders and he gazed over to the open door of the barn. There the nose of his Mustang poked out from the door. Finally the weather was cooperating enough for him to go to the Shammel. Earlier in the day he had washed and then waxed the car, even though the nearly new paint had only a thin layer of dust on it from sitting in the barn.

He walked over to the car, twirling the keys and the Cobra logo keychain that had come with the car. The door popped open with a satisfying sound, and just as he sat down in the racing bucket Bud became acutely aware of the hoard of butterflies taking flight in his stomach. _I'm not nervous, _he told himself, _just excited. _Excited because he got to drive his car for the first time for real. Excited because he was going to the Shammel Highway for the first time. Excited because he could really impress Mallory. . .or he could look like a fool, and he knew it. Quickly casting those thoughts out of his mind he pushed the gas pedal to the floor, then the clutch before working the shifter back and forth in the neutral gate. Finally he twisted the key, the motor cranked and ignited into a thunderous roar that echoed off the tool boxes and old wood walls of the barns. Bud felt a tingle start in his stomach, work its way up his spine and finally spread across his mouth in a wide, childish grin.

The orange needle on the tachometer mounted in the center of the dash settled to a raucous idle just under 1,000 RPM, the solid valve lifters clattering away under the hood, the exhaust throbbing loudly just a few feet below Bud's ears. He waited until the car had warmed up. Nobody was going to meet him here or someplace in downtown, he wasn't looking to make an entrance with a team or anything like that, he just wanted to make sure Mallory had enough time to make it there before he arrived.

"Ugh, where is Bud? He said he was going to be here." Matt groaned.

"He probably spaced out and forgot." Grizz said.

"Either that or he's with Mallory." Scott said, with just a hint of disdain.

"Yeah, maybe." Matt shrugged, "I knew we should have showed up at his house to make sure he made it here tonight." He was a little disappointed. The amount of time they'd not been able to race because of rain Matt had had a lot of time to work on his car, a new set of five spoke alloy wheels, real dual exhaust, unlike the system Chevy had put in place. Matt scanned the cars that had assembled in the field that night, looking to see if he had missed his friend, the truth was that he didn't know how Bud had painted the Mustang. Most of the cars were familiar, Chris, Jason and Sung were all there of course, Tyrone was there too, and somebody even showed up with a General Lee look alike. He thought it was kind of neat but there was still no sign of Bud. Mallory was even there too, Matt had thought that they would show up together. Cars were still coming in though, so there was still the possibility that Bud would show.

"Hey guys." Mallory said as she walked over to where her three schoolmates were standing.

"Hi Mallory." Matt said, Scott merely gave a curt nod.

"Have you guys seen Bud?" She asked, with a confused, almost concerned face.

"Nope, we were going to ask you the same question." Grizz said.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon, he told me he would meet me here."

"Yeah, but you know how he forgets things." Matt said.

"I guess." Mallory shrugged, her stomach suddenly sinking. "So what's his car like? He wouldn't show me."

"You mean you haven't seen it either?" Grizz asked.

"No." Mallory said a little sheepishly, "I just kind of figured he would have showed it off to you guys."

"Not yet. Matts the only one who's seen the car besides Bud."

"And when I saw it, it looked like crap." Matt said.

"He didn't even tell me what color he was going to paint it." Mallory said again.

"Me neither." Matt seconded.

Across the field from the high schoolers Chris Duntov looked around, taking in the field the sights and sounds of performance cars. Ty had pointed out the Jennings boys when he'd arrived and informed Chris that they would probably be gunning for him tonight.

"Are you gonna race tonight?" Sung asked. "Or are you gonna wait for the ghost?" That was one of the annoying things about Sung, his voice was always so mellow it seemed like he didn't care.

"It doesn't matter anyways." Jason said. "If the Galaxie shows up tonight, I get first shot."

"Yeah. I guess that's only fair." Chris said. "Ty are you sure the Jennings are here to challenge someone?"

"Yeah, course they are, why else would they be here?"

"I don't know, they showed up in one car, I would think they would use at least two if they were going to try and make a statement."

"Maybe they're here to check out the scene ole' man."

"It's possible." Chris said as he contemplated the bright orange Charger with the Stars and Bars on the roof. He trusted Ty's assessment of their talent, but a Charger just wasn't going to match up well against his Corvette, it was just too big and too heavy. It seemed like the two were looking for somebody, or a certain car. It was no secret who was fastest on the Shammel Highway, people came from all around to race Chris, Jason and Mallory, and they were all here, five minutes and a few questions and the Jennings would know exactly which cars, and drivers they were looking for, but they seemed to be focused on something else. In the distance, he could hear another car approaching.

Bud downshifted as he approached Yates Road a few seconds later he pulled through the gate to the field. He moved slowly down the aisle in first gear the motor rumbling. While trying to make sure he didn't run anybody over Bud had failed to realize the amount of people looking in his direction, when he finally did his cheeks grew red with embarrassment immediately. Quickly he started looking for a spot to park, but all of the spots near the gate were taken. More and more people looked, _stared _at Bud and his car, making him more and more embarrassed. _I would probably pick the wrong car. _The words echoed in his head. He had clearly picked the wrong car. Bud pulled into the first gap in the cars he found, nose first breaking what was clearly the protocol of backing in. Hopefully fewer people would notice this way. Apparently he had picked so badly that it interested people. Bud was sure they had come to laugh at him. He climbed out of the car with a bit of a deer in the headlights look, not sure where the first joke or insult was going to come from.

"What's up with the taillights?" Someone asked from the back of the car.

"They were put in when the car was in Europe." Bud explained quickly, his voice shaky. "They had to have orange turn signals." Bud's heart sank, knowing this was only the beginning.

"Looks kinda neat." The other offered.

"This thing sounds pretty good, what's under the hood?" A guy standing near Bud asked.

"Just a 289."

"It's a K-code right?"

"I don't know." Bud said. "It's the 289 that came with the car."

"Bud!" Mallory called, and he looked up, not realizing how nervous he had been until Mallory and his friends showing up made him twice as nervous as he had been.

"We were beginning to think you had forgotten about tonight." Grizz said.

"Nah." Bud responded.

"You guys never believe me." Matt said.

Mallory on the other hand was busy making her way around the dark green and silver Mustang. It looked like a GT350, it had all the hardware, at least that she could see, even the interior was gutted. She completed her lap around the car and came up behind Bud. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned forward.

"I heart this car." She said in Bud's ear, and he could just picture her smile.

Bud's already quick pulse got another ten times faster. Now it didn't matter what anybody else thought about the car, it had passed the only test it had needed to. People continued to ask questions, which Bud was suddenly much more comfortable answering. The crowd continued to grow and shift as people came to get a look at the car that nobody had seen before, it got to the point that Chris, Sung and Jason couldn't ignore. The three made their way over to the car and worked through the crowd until they were standing among the inner ring of people.

"So, this is the car you were looking for a battery for." Chris finally said the crowd grew quiet.

"Yeah," Bud said, "It took a lot to get it to look like this."

"I bet it did." Chris offered. "Looks excellent, you going to race it after you put some time in on the Shammel?"

"I could race it tonight." Bud said in a tone that was neither arrogant nor bragging.

"The Shammels kind of tough kid." Jason put in. "It takes a lot of practice before you can start to run it. Just ask your girl."

"I have lots of practice." Bud said, continuing in his usual kind of spacey tone, "I run it every night almost in my Dad's old Galaxie."

The crowd fell silent. The Shammel Ghost was real, and he was a kid.

"We're racing tonight, 10 p.m." Jason ground out, and you won't beat me again."


	8. Four Wheels

Chapter 8 Four Wheels

"What the hell you jerk!" Matt exclaimed as he began to hit Bud over the head. "Why didn't you ever tell me that ran on the Shammel all the time!" He said extremely agitated

"You never asked," Bud said simply, rubbing the back of his nead.

"Do you know who you just challenged?" Matt asked again leaning closer to Bud.

"Yeah, I've already passed him once, I figure I can do it again," Bud shrugged. If he was intimedated he didn't show it. His friends looked on disbelief, all except for Mallory who knew full well what Bud was capable of.

"So you'll be there then?" Jason asked.

"Of course," Bud answered. Jason turned and left, it seemed almost like he didn't want to see Bud's car. To Bud it seemed almost a breech of etiquette now that he had thrown down the gauntlet.

"Bud, Bud," Grizz whispered frantically as he grabbed his friends around the shoulders. "Running the Shammel in the middle of the night with nobody else on the road is completely different from racing."

"I know," Bud said not betraying any hint of nervousness.

"You gotta know you can't win, Jason is the second fastest on the Shammel, and you've never raced before."

"I know," Bud said again, a hint of agitation creeping into his voice.

"I have faith in you!" Mallory said, holding him around the waist.

"Me too!" Matt said excitedly jumping up and down.

"So thats your ghost?" Ty said, a smirk on his face as he contemplated the car. "I didn't think the kid would have that car ready so soon, and boy is she nice, I mean damn! Look at that thing!"

"Yeah, I know," Chris said thoughtfully. "You guys think the kids got it," He looked first to Sung, who gave him a lopsided grin but shrugged without giving an answer.

"Listen man, if he took down Jason in a Galaxie then he ain't gonna have a problem in that machine. You know that."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too, but the kids never raced before, and the only person whose seen him in action is Jason, and it sounded like the kid put some ground on him pretty quick, that is a good car, though. How strong do you think that thing is Ty?"

Ty looked over at the green and silver Mustang. "When he pulled in that thing sounded really good man . ." Ty paused. "I'd guess that things got more then 350 horses, and it looks like the kid made it out to be a GT350 R. I wonder how close he got, cuz if he did that ain't nobody gonna catch him."

"Even me?" Chris asked arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah man, he's younger," Ty answered before his face broke out into a wide grin. "Maybe he'll come down and join my team."

"Don't you think thats a bit premature? He's just a kid and you haven't even seen him race yet," Chris said. "Besides, have you ever raced Jason? He's pretty fast, I don't know how he got that Mitsubishi motor into his car but he did," Chris looked back across the field, he thought that all things considered, it was a pretty even match. Even though Bud's car had more horsepower and was lightweight, it still wasn't as light as Jason's Fiat, which as midengined, so it should handle better. If only they could get a closer look at Bud's car Ty could probably tell them just how close it was to GT350R specification.

"Hey Ty?" Chris said.

"Sup ol' man?"

"Could you spot a legit GT 350R?"

"Aww yeah, course I could, But its mostly under the hood, cuz they damn near put the race suspension into the regular GT 350 anyways, then gutted the interior and added power. You wanna go take a closer look?"

"Nah, it would look suspicious if we went back over there now. Bud may not catch it but one of his friends would. You know roughly how it should perform on the Shammel though?"

"Yeah, of course."

"So you're staying for the race?" Sung asked.

"Wouldn't miss it," Ty said.

(((

At ten oclock, after the sun had long set the two competitors lined up, motors idling as they waited for the starter to appear. The 289 in Bud's Mustang pulsing because of the cam that allowed it to rev, next to it Jason's Fiat whirred away, the turbocharger giving a hint of a whistle. Bud thought it was startling how half an hour ago almost the entire field had cleared out, except for the two competitors and handful of spectators who wanted to see the start. His friends had even taken off to watch from somwhere along the course. Matt and Mallory gave him words of encouragment, while Grizz tried to give him a couple of tips. Scott just stood by, with an almost sick look on his face, like he thought that in less then an hour the four of them would be picking pieces of Bud and his car out of a field, or a tree. Even though Bud had never raced before he brushed off Grizz's advice, promising he would go as fast as he could and not dissapoint.

Now that he was alone, waiting for the starter with nobody to talk to he was getting nervous, his palms were sweating on the wood rimmed steering wheel, he waited, hoping it wouldn't be long before they would get underway.

In the next lane over Jason sat in his Fiat X1/9, smug in his belief that he would be able to win. Sure that in the Mustang next to him Bud thought he was going to win too. Jason had showed people time and time again not to count him and his little Fiat out. He had almost always been the underdog here in the land of the V8, people just wouldn't give the Fiat any respect. He had started, years ago by improving the handling, and brakes, bigger wheels and tire, and fender flare to clear them. It reached the point however that the handling along couldn't do it anymore, he needed to add power, and more power then he would ever be able to ring out of the 1.5 liter Fiat motor. He spent a lot of time looking and eventually settled on the Mitsubishi 4G63 out of a Lancer Evo II. The turbo motor instantly gave him the power he needed, even if it took the better part of a summer to retune the suspension.

Even now after running number two on the Shammel for more then two years, people still challenged him, thinking they would simply out pace him on the straightaways. He knew better, and was sure that sitting in the car next to him, Bud was another such victim. Jason probed the gas pedal, smiling to himself as the motor climbed in revs, sounding good and ready to go.

Finally, after what seemed like forever the starter moved out from the side of the road. "Ready?" Ha called, both drivers responded by revving their motors, Bud's Ford V8 bellowing, the Mitsubishi's four screaming punctuated by the snap of the turbo's waste gate. "Get set!" The starter put his hand in the air. Both drivers focused on it as if it were the only thing in the world. "GO!" He shouted dropping his hand simaltaniously.

Tires squealed, filling the air with the scent of burnt rubber. Bud's GT 350 jumped out to the lead, taking advantage of the V8s torque to pull ahead of the smaller lighter Fiat. The two cars charged down the first straightaway, accelerating hard. Jason fell in behind Bud, and despite concentraiting hard on the car infront of him, smiled. '_Enjoy it now kid. Once we get to the twisty parts you're all mine,' _he thought. So many of his races had started like this in the past, the guy with the big V8 would jump out to a big lead, but once it became a handling contest Jason would have the race in the bag. Very few people were able beat him, and Chris Duntov was one of them.

Bud lifted slightly as the two cars approched the first turn, a slight right hander with some bank to it. Behind him Jason smiled just as he'd thought, the Mustang wasn't going to out corner his Fiat. '_See how you do when I'm going full speed,' _Jason thought.

(((

Four people had taken four cars to get to the parking lot of Central Davidson High School. Thye had left the field together, and arrived at the school together after a spirited run down the Shammel Highway. The four drivers had arrived at the same time, but they were not _together. _Even though they were all there for the same reason. Mallory was still acutely aware of the fact that she wasn't totally welcome. Matt was alright with her, but he had almost always been. Grizz and Scott though, that was another story, it seemed like they made a point of staying at least three feet away from he at all times. Whenever she offered her opinion the only support she got was from Matt, the other two just seemed to shrug it off like she wasn't even there.

Mallory was furious, but what could she do about it? They were Bud's friends, and after all they were only dumb High School kids, listening to rumors and always desperatly afraid of being seen as _uncool. _They should know better, and at the very least they should try to be firendly because she was dating Bud, shouldn't they?

"Oooo! This is so incredible!" Matt siad, running in place he was so excited.

"Yeah," Mallory seconded.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up guys," Grizz said.

"What?" Matt said stunned that his fiend would doubt Bud.

"I want Bud to win too, but sometimes you just have to face the facts and right now the odds are against Bud."

"But he's run this in a Galaxie he must be faster in a Mustang."

Mallory had to stiffle a laugh as she watched Matt start to freak out so bad that he was visibly shaking. She knew better of course, if Grizz had ever been in the Galaxie he would have no doubt as to how good Bud was, no doubt what so ever as to who was going to win this race. She felt a warm spot in her heart as she rememberd this secret information, it was hers to share with with who and when she wanted, and Grizz didn't deserve to know,

"It's true, he should be faster in the Mustang, but the main problem is that he's never raced before," Grizz said.

"You'll see it yourself after your first race," Scott added. "Driving a road, no matter how fast or how many times you've done it, is an entirely different thing from a race," he glanced over at Mallory who he had raced a few times, and who, of the four people there was the best and most experienced driver.

"He could win," Grizz said, his tone indicatting what he thought the real odds were.

"I don't care what you guys think," Matt said, "I think Bud's going to win!" He turned on his heels.

"Wow. You think he's overreacting a little bit," Grizz asked.

"Yeah," Scott answered.

"Matt," Mallory whispered, "Matt come here," She beckoned him.

"Huh, whats up?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

Matt looked at her, the blue tips of her hair, her knowing smile.

"Sure," he said hesitantly.

"I think Bud's going to win too. Know why?" She smiled at him.

"No," he said cautiously, "Because you're his girlfriend?"

"No," She whispered getting a little closer. "Because I rode with him in the Galaxie."

Mallory smiled while Matt tried to recover from the shock. Once every thing caught up he openned his mouth to yell but Mallory quickly clamped her hand down on his mouth.

"Shut up," She hissed, "This is just between you and me, ok?"

Matt looked at her, eyes wide, and nodded his head vigorously, wanting to ask so many questions, but the most important one he couldn't ask because Bud wasn't there.

"What are those two up to?" Grizz asked looking over at Matt and Mallory.

"I don't know," Scott answered, and both took a couple of steps back.

(((

'_He's still back there,' _Bud thought, and gritted his teeth as he turned onto another moderate straight section. He put the pedal down, the 289 roaring with an entirely different note then he was used to in the Galaxie.

"I got you now!" Jason hissed as they approached the next turn, a turn that tripped up so many first time racers. Jason backed off briefly, thinking that Bud would possibly spin out, he slowed down, then downshifted, giving Bud the extra space to make a mistake and not get caught in the aftermath himself. His mistake was quickly clear, the Mustang didn't spin out, the kid was clearly more familiar with the road than Jason had anticipated. It was astonishing how the kid hit the braking, and acceleration points almost perfectly.

The flat spot where Young Road enters from the right caused the suspension to load up, and then unload only a second later as the road continued downhill. Running through the full suspension travel creating handling problems, only very skilled drivers could attack the turn with any sort of speed, those who had never been on the Shammel found out about it in very expensive fashion.

"What?" Jason gasped, before gritting his teeth and puttin gthe gas pedal down, following Bud down the moderate straight section that led into the climbing right hander.

(((

"Who do you thinks gonna win?" Ty asked, he looked to Chris knowing Sung would only give him a shrug. Chris frowned briefly as he stroked his chin. There was no telling what was running through his head. "Well you got an answer ol' man?"

"Yeah, we've already been over this." Chris said, as he looked back down the road from the parking lot at Bethany Methodist..

"A'ight, but its not like Sung over here is a conversational master."

"I know," Chris responded, Sung shrugged.

"Remember how you were complaining about there not having much competition around here?" Sung asked.

"Yeah, it looks like we might not have that problem for awhile,"Chris said, still straining to hear the sounds of approaching cars.

"Well once you get tired of the kid, I'm sure I can find somebody whose looking for a good challenge," Sung said.

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked. Sung never had the opportunity to answer as the two cars thundered onto the straight away running up close to top speed for the Shammel Highway. The two cars sped down the straight away, all conversation having stopped, all eyes turned towards the two competitors. Motors roared, and barked as the two cars decelerated for the turn, the turbo wastegate snapped viciously as the little red car moved to the inside and pulled ahead of the GT350. Engines grew louder as the two cars accelerated hard out of the turn. The sounds started to die away as the two cars sped off towards the finish line.

"Aww man, I thought the kid would be all over this," Ty said. "You think he can pass again?"

"I think he can, " Chris said after a moment of consideration. "Thats a strong car and he was ahead of Jason to this point. The kid is clearly no slouch behind the wheel. Most importantly," Chris paused the other two looked at him, waiting for him to finish. "He's not driving anywhere near that cars limits."

(((

It was weird, Bud hadn't realized until Jason had passed him, but the whole time he was back there in his little red Fiat. There had been a pressure on Bud that he couldn't ignore, a weight on his shoulders that he only noticed when it had disappeared. It was as if he was being hunted, and had been driving his hardest the whole time to stay ahead, now though the tables were turned, he could relax, and focus on keeping up with the car ahead of him, to hunt, to look for his opportunity to pass.

Both cars bled off speed as they climbed a hill, the left hnd turn getting tighter as they neared its exit. '_I don't believe that kid is still back ther,' _Jason thought, allowing hmself a glimpse in his rear view mirror. '_The only people who can keep up with me this long are Chris and Mallory. He's still just a kid. I got this.'_

The cars exploded onto the next straight section. The Ford V8 bellowed as it chased the blatting turbocharged Fiat, the wastegate snapping with every up shift. '_This is where he might pass me,' _Jason admitted to himself, gritting his teeth. The engine not changed as Jason floored the gas pedal, accelerating the Fiat for all it was worth, shifting up again. Ahead Jason knew there was a slight right hand turn coming. '_I'll open a gap here, he'll have to slow down more than me.' _For the first time that night Jaon allowed himself to smile. He finally had this one in the bag.

Tapping the brakes broguht his speed down just enough as he set up for the turn. He checked the rear view mirror on exit, expecting to see a nice gap, instead all he saw was the pair of headlight blazing away, closer then ever.

The road openned out to three lanes as the two cas neared Central Davidson High School. '_Here I go,' _thought Bud , he put the pedal down and moved out from behind Jason, leaving enough room so a twitch wouldn't wreck them both. The needle on the tach climbed towards 6,000 RPM. The green and Silver Mustang cleanly passed Jason and his Fiat.

Everyone who had gathered at Central Davidson realized what they had just witnessed. Many people cheered, some like Mallory and Bud's friends because they knew Bud, others because they were finally glad to see somebody shake up the top tier of talent, some cheered Jason on too. Only a few people realized the true significance of what had happened though, by passing where he did Bud had essentially turned the rest of the course into a drag race. A drag race he would win.

(((

"Ok, thanks," Sung said, and hung up, his cell phone.

"Who won?" Ty asked, only slightly concealing his impatience. Sung gave a wry smile in response.

"Well?" Chris asked.

"Bud won," Sung finally admitted. "He passed at Central Davidson High, and Jason couldn't keep up after that."

"Aww yeah," Ty said, and smiled. "Think he'll join the Ridge Rollers? Cuz I know you won't ol' man."

"No, that kid doesn't strike me as the type to head down to Monroe to mess with the Jennings boys."

"I can always try."

"You can, doesn't mean you'll get anywhere," Chris smiled, at try before they both strated laughing.

"Very funny, what were you saying about the kid not drvin' the car at its limit."

"Oh come on Ty," Chris said after the last few laughs died away. "You're a Ford guy, you shoud know this better then me."

"What you talkin' about?" Ty said, suddenly very serious, he crossed his arms infront of his chest.

"This turn, right here," Chris pointed to the road. "Both cars were going fast down the sraight, but Bud missed the best braking point by five feet, he broke to early."

"So the kid was takin' it easy," Ty said.

"No," Sung said, he had seen Chris do this before, he was about to come up with something others had missed. It was startling how much alike they were sometimes.

"On the contrary, he probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. But is driving the course the same way he always has, but everything isn't the same," Chris paused, watching Ty's face for the sign that he understood what Chris was getting at.

"The cars," Ty finally said.

"Right. Bud learned the Shammel in a Ford Galaxie. Surely the car is heavily modified, but short of acid dipping every piece of metal in the car they would never be able to get it down to the same weight of that GT 350. All of Bud's course markers are set for a car that is at least another 500 to 1000 pounds heavier then his, and has a longer wheelbase."

"Do you think he knows this?" Ty asked.

Chris didn't answer right away, he thought about it. "No." He finally answered, "If the kid had realized the difference he would have been close to the cars limit. He would have at least made some sort of adjustment."

"Are you gonna tell him?" Ty asked.

"I don't know yet," Chris said. He knew he could beat Bud, the way he drove tonight, he would stay on top, the King of the Shammel Highway, but would it really count? He wanted to win, wanted to stay on top, it even helped his business but he wouldn't be matching up against Bud on equal terms, it would be a hollow victory, even if there were only three people who realized it.

"Sung, what did you say about other competition earlier?" Chris asked.

"Oh. A friend of mine from Japan is in the States with his team, I think I could convince him to come down here," Sung said.

(((

"Oh man that was cool Saturday night," Matt said, very excited as the two walked down the hallway at school.

"You're on that again," Bud sighed.

"Yeah, of course," Matt responded after only a moment hesitation. "Everybody's talking about it, the whole school, all of the racers. Everybody is talking about how the Ghost of the Shammel Highway showed up and took out Jason, and he's my best friend. Oh this is so cool!"

"Cool your jets Matt," Bud said, getting a little agitated. "It's not a big deal, I don't know what everybodys so crazy about."

Matt's mouth fell open. "What?" He erupted a moment later. "You don't understand what the big deal is? I'll tell you what the big deal is. You showed up, out of nowhere driving an awesome car and in your first race beat the second fastest person on the Shammel Highway."

"Alright calm down," Bud said holding up his hands for Matt to stop. "I just meant I didn't think it was a big deal because my car is slower then my Dad's."

Matt's expression changed instantly from anger to confused curiosity. "Not as fast as your Dad's car? But your Dad's car is a Galaxie," His attitude changed back to anger very quickly. "What do you think I am some kind of idiot? There's no way a Galaxie could be fater then a GT350."

"I swear," Bud held up his hands in surrender. "It feels slower to me. Why would I lie to you about how fast or slow my car is?"

"To keep it a secret from the other racers," Matt said sheepishly.

"You're my best friend Matt, and you know more about this stuff then I do,"

Matt's cheeks turned red, feeling guilty about yelling at Bud and jumping to the conclusion that Bud was lying to him.

"You should really ask Mallory. She knows more then I do," Matt said quietly.

"No I don't want to talk to her about this," Bud said an edge creeping into his voice.

"Is something wrong with you guys?"

"No everythings fine between us. I just didn't want her knowing about this."

**A/N** I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you think. I also have to say thanks to Shadow55419 for doing the beta on this chapter.

Thanks, Margrave


	9. Long Hard Ride

Chapter 9 Long Hard Ride

"Where are we headed next Aniki?" Keisuke asked the morning after the last race against the Bow Tie Boys.

"Do you remember Sung?" Ryosuke asked,

"Of course I remember Sung, Until he ran into problems we spent a lot of time together, you know that."

"Of course," Ryosuke responded. "He called me recently and suggested that we pay him a visit."

"Does he live near here?" Keisuke asked not sure that he would believe it.

"No, he's in North Carolina, the same town that William is from. At first I was skeptical of Sung's story when he called, William mentioned all of the same things Sung did though. It sounds like it could be a good opportunity."

"I don't know Aniki, that's a long way to go and a lot of ground to overlook that could be harboring good racers. It just seems like a waste."

"Keisuke, America is a big country and we do not have the time to visit every little town and village looking for the best challenge. We need to get out of this region and Sung and William's information at least gives us something to go on."

"I know," Keisuke said slightly aggravated, it was always like this whenever he disagreed with his older brother.

"From all accounts it sounds like Denton has a lot of talent, I think we would get a better group of challenges down there instead of gambling by trying to challenge everybody along the way."

"Alright," Keisuke said with an aggravated sigh.

"There's also a particularly interesting racer in Denton. Sung says he could rival Takumi for natural ability."

Keisuke hated it when his older brother said things like that. There was no denying that Takumi was a very skilled driver, but to be reminded of it so often, and to hear of it like Takumi had been given this gift. Keisuke had to work hard for everything he earned behind the wheel, all of his technique, he worked tirelessly to perfect. Yet it was always Takumi's 'natural talent' that everybody talked about, not how hard Keisuke worked, not how much he had improved from the start of this experiment known as Project D had started. Keisuke hated it because it sounded like he wasn't as good as Takumi, because he had to work to develop his talent, it was like Takumi was in some intangible way better than Keisuke, it felt like he would always be. Keisuke hated playing second, it was alright when he was second best to his brother, Ryosuke was the best, but Takumi? It always kept burning, in the pit of his heart, it fueled his determination, to get better, to finally put to rest the myth of Akina's unbeatable 86. He would do it one day, and he would do it in spectacular fashion. Besides, wasn't Takumi the only one to lose in America?

"Besides this 'natural' kid, what else is down there for competition?" Keisuke finally grumbled.

Ryosuke knew by how long it had taken his brother to ask the question that something else had to run through his mind first. "From what Sung has told me the fastest down there currently is a man who drives a 1970 Corvette, the Second fastest is the kid with the Shelby Mustang. Then a Fiat X1/9 running an Evo II motor, and the fourth is a girl who drives a 1982 Mustang."

"Sounds like a bunch of old cars, we shouldn't have to much of a challenge," Keisuke scoffed. "The only car that make me curious is that Fiat. I've never heard of that model before."

"I did some research," Ryosuke said and he leaned back in his chair. "It was a small mid engined Targa top car that was made from the 1970s until part way through the 1980s, very close to when the AW11 came out. It was very lightweight, combining that with an Evo II motor should make for a fairly formidable opponent."

"Did Sung mention if it has a misfiring system?" Keisuke asked, remembering how important it had been on Kyoichi Sudo's Evo III.

"It would certainly add another layer to the challenge," Ryosuke said, "But I don't know that it would be as important as Sudo's system. It sounds like the course is mostly level, the benefit of that type of system would be diminished somewhat."

"Alright," Keisuke said, "So do you have an idea of how the match-ups are going to work out?" Keisuke asked, knowing whether his older brother had run it through in his computer or not, somewhere he had already worked out his match-ups. Preliminary estimates only of course, but somewhere there was a fledgling plan.

"I haven't decided yet," Ryosuke admitted, "There are numerous possible opponents, and at least two possible locations, there are too many variables to make a good preliminary estimation."

Others would have missed it, most people couldn't discern Ryosuke's tells, but sitting across the table his brother certainly could. Somehow he knew enough to leave it alone for now, while at the same time he was aware that it was different this time. Whatever was bothering his brother was worse then most things. Something had actually distracted him. He said he didn't have enough information, but he always had enough to at least make an estimate. Something big was bothering his older brother, and that bothered Keisuke.

There was no ignoring how Keisuke's stomach dropped to his feet, and it was because his brother was seriously distracted by something, maybe even upset at something which would be worse. The younger Takahashi brother took a deep breath, trying to push the fear out of his mind and body. It only half worked before he started trying to reassure himself mentally. '_He's got it under control,' _Keisuke told himself, '_Aniki always comes up with the right answer. Always.' _It didn't seem to be working, Ryosuke had never failed him before, except when he raced Takumi, but that didn't count, did it? Nobody beat Takumi so it didn't matter.

With his own mental reassurance failing Keisuke settled on the one thing he was certain of '_Aniki won't tell me if I ask, I'll just have to wait,' _he thought and tried to push the problem from his mind.

The morning Maine sun felt warn on Takumi's cheeks as he walked over to the 86, his old friend. Matsumoto walked next to him across the dewy grass, and for that reason Takumi did his best to keep a steady pace, even though his legs threatened to carry him closer at the speed his heart desired.

"She's as good as new," Matsumoto said when the pair finally arrived next to the car.

"Good," Takumi said, trying hard to keep the quiver out of his voice, the anticipation was killing him. He liked Molly's Tiger, but that wasn't his car, nothing could compare to the familiarity of the car that he had grown up in, competed in so many races with. He liked the Tiger, if he ever had the opportunity Takumi had already decided he would own one, but it would never be like his 86. The car that fit like a pair of broken in shoes, perfectly familiar, comfortable, an old friend. The car was an extension of himself, and he had missed the little white and black hatch back.

"So are we going for a ride or what?" Matsumoto said jokingly, shaking Takumi out of his admiring trance. He loved the 86.

Takumi slid down into the drivers bucket seat, everything was just as it had always been. He pushed in the clutch, felt the familiar resistance he slotted the key into the ignition. Without hesitation the motor fired, emitting the unmistakeable thrum. In the passenger seat Matsumoto smiled to himself, knowing that he'd done everything that he could, and he had done it right. As the car warmed up Takumi looked over the gauges, making sure that everything was working the way it should. He pressed the throttle a couple of time, sending the tachometer needle racing around the dial.

"Sounds good doesn't it." Matsumoto offered.

"Yeah, it does." Takumi answered. He slotted the shifter into reverse and backed out onto the road. They headed away from Stevie's house, prepared to do a little exploring, the Toyota motor performing flawlessly. Takumi was taking it easy though, driving like anybody else on a normal Sunday afternoon.

The first thing that Takumi noticed was how _different _the 4AG was from the Ford V8 in Molly's Tiger. Sure, he had driven the 86 with this motor for more than a year, he knew exactly how it was supposed to perform and act, and it was doing just what it was supposed to. Somehow now something was different. Matsumoto had clearly done what he was supposed to, the motor was running perfectly, but Takumi missed the V8s ample torque. It wasn't that he didn't like the 86 or the motor sitting under the carbon fiber hood, but there was such a major difference between the two cars. It was like the 86 was somehow limited in a way that Takumi had never seen.

"I think you can get on it a little more," Matsumoto offered.

"Alright," Takumi said, he downshifted two gears, the tires squealed briefly and the 86 lunged forward, the needle on the tachometer moved quickly towards 11,000 RPM, the engine howling. Takumi shifted and the whole process started over.

"Pretty good huh?" Matsumoto said as the 86 decelerated for a turn and went back to a normal cruising speed.

"Yeah," Takumi said with a smile, not wanting to upset Matsumoto he didn't say what was really on his mind. What he was thinking about how it was totally different from Molly's Tiger. It was still quick, still fast, but Molly's car, the Tiger was just plain faster. Maybe it didn't handle like the 86 did, it was still good. But the power, oh the power that was the big difference between the two wasn't it? If only there was some way to combine the two elements, the power of the Tiger and the balance and handling of the 86, or something like Toshiya Joshima's S2000.

The Tiger did handle really well but Takumi would want it a little better, a little different. A thought struck Takumi just then, something Ryosuke had said a few weeks ago, about the Cobra. Some American guy took a Ford V8 engine and put it in an old English roadster to create the Cobra, what was his name? '_Shell, something. . .Shelly? No. Shelton? Shel, Shel, Shel,' _he thought quietly.

"Shelby," Takumi finally said out loud.

"What?" Matsumoto asked.

"Oh, sorry I was just trying to remember the guy who was behind the Cobra and the Sunbeam Tiger," Takumi admitted, a little embarrassed.

"Taking an interest in older cars? Or just automotive history?"

"Something like that," Takumi said.

"I can see why, he made some really neat cars. I wish there were more of them at home so we could see more of them."

"Do you think you would like to work on one, or could you work on one?"

"I'd have to buy a whole new set of tools just for it," Matsumoto laughed, "And it would have a lot of systems that our cars haven't used in a long time. I bet you're dieing to drive one aren't you?"

"Yeah, it would be an experience wouldn't it?" Takumi responded. _Good to know, _ he thought to himself. _I know Matsumoto would be able to work on it. He does good with pretty much anything._

"Fried tofu please," Natsuki called happily, knowing that Bunta would be somewhere within earshot.

"I can't believe you can eat that stuff," her American friend said.

"Yeah, yeah hold on," Bunta said, pushing aside the half curtain. "Natsuki, I haven't seen you in awhile."

"Just finished the semester at University, I'm home for the summer," She responded cheerfully.

"If you're looking for Takumi you won't find him here."

"I know, he's in America, oh have you been keeping up with what Project D's been doing?" Finding some way to get more excited.

"No computer," Bunta said.

"Well Takumi won his last two races, but for the last one he had to drive somebody elses car."

Bunta's face didn't change, he didn't seem to have any sort of expression for the most part.

"What was it?" Natsuki asked, tapping her friend on the arm.

"A Sunbeam Tiger," She said with a hint of longing.

"Yeah, and he won," Natsuki said, and Bunta actually seemed to take note.

"A Sunbeam Tiger?"

"Do you know about the Shelby Cobra?" The girl standing next to Takumi piped in.

"And you are?" Bunta ground out, looking the short blonde girl up and down quickly.

"Sarah," She said crossing her arms across her chest.

_She's got some attitude, _Bunta thought. "So, a Sunbeam Tiger?" He prompted.

"It's like a Cobra, but instead they put a Ford V8 into a Sunbeam Alpine and called it a Tiger," Sarah didn't try to hide the edge in her voice, it wasn't like this guy had been exceptionally nice, and he ran the business.

"Sounds interesting," Bunta said, and the wheels and gears in his mind started turning. "You're not from around here, are you?" He asked turning to Sarah. It wasn't just her name but the way she spoke Japanese.

"No, I'm from America," She responded.

"So, you know a thing or two about these cars?"

"Yeah, they're pretty fast, light cars, strong V8, good balance, I'd like to have one." She shrugged looking back at Bunta.

"Hmm," Bunta said.

"So what about my fried tofu?" Natsuki asked.

"Right," Bunta said and went to work. _A V8, _He thought, _That might do the trick, a car like that might finally get Takumi to __realize__ the limitations of the 86. I just hope he can make the right __decision.__ The torque that a motor like that can produce in a light car. Not even a turbocharged motor that the kid has driven can match that. I think this might have done it._

"Here you go, that'll be Y180."

"Alright," Natsuki counted out the money. "Does Itsuki still work at the gas station, oh and do they still go up Mount Akina at night?"

"Wasn't my turn to watch him, but they still go up Akina no matter how many times I dust that old 85 on my deliveries that kid won't take a hint." Bunta chuckled.

"Thanks, we'll see you soon." Natsuki waved.

"Nice to meet you." Sarah said.

"Hmm." Bunta nodded, but watched the two good-looking young women leave. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but parked in front of the store was a dark blue R33 Skyline, it had silver racing stripes running down the middle, exhaust, and aftermarket wheels. "Hmm," Bunta smiled a little. _She's a racer._


	10. Teacher, Teacher

Chapter 10 Teacher Teacher.

"Rumor goin' round is the Moon Runners are going to challenge you and the kid this weekend," Ty said.

"You come all the way up here to tell me that?" Chris asked. "You could have just called."

"I know, but I need every excuse I can get to drive the Boss and these guys plan on challenging you guys like you were a team."

"Huh. You think he stands a chance against the Jennings boys?"

"Aww man I dunno," Ty said. "He'd stand a good chance, but if he doesn't get what you were talking about the other night, they could take him out."

"I don't like that," Chris said glancing over at Sung who shrugged. "I want to be the one to beat the kid, not one of the Jennings boys."

"Well you should go talk to him then," Sung offered.

"Looks like Ty's back," Matt said looking across the street at the Calypso Coral Boss Mustang. "Oh that car is so cool."

"What do you think he's here about?" Bud asked.

"I don't know probably hanging out with Chris and Sung," Matt's tone changed. "Maybe they're talking about some sort of alliance! Ty runs a team in Monroe maybe he's trying to recruit Chris! Oh that would be so cool, nobody would be able to beat them. They might even ask you to join," Matt kept talking faster and faster trying to make sure that he got everything out in one breath.

"I doubt it," Bud said. He was quiet for a moment. "Tell boss I've gone on break," Bud said suddenly and then before Matt could do anything he was on his way across the street to Chris' speed shop.

The door chime sounded when Bud walked in, Sung, Chris and Ty were there.

"'Sup, that was a good race you run the other night," Ty said.

"Thanks," Bud said as both Chris and Sung seconded Ty's statement. Bud was almost shaking he was so nervous. He hoped desperately that the other men couldn't see this, and he would be able to keep his voice under control. These were the three big time guys on the local racing scene; he didn't want to look like a fool.

"So what's up?" Chris asked.

"Actually I was wondering if I could as Ty a question."

"Go for it brother," Ty said

"I was wondering if you could help me with my car?" Bud asked quickly. "Tonight maybe?"

"Sure," Ty responded. "What time you off work?"

"Eight," Bud said. "I gotta get back, thanks," He said, and ducked back out the door.

"Wonder what he needs help with?" Ty said as the three watched the High Schooler jog back across the road.

"I don't know," Chris said, "but his car seemed to be in tip top shape when he raced. I can't imagine he needs help with it already. Maybe it's the lifters?"

"Naw, the way that thing was running the other night whoever helped him with that car knows how to adjust solid lifters," Ty said.

"It's got to be about driving then," Chris said.

"Then, why wouldn't he ask one of his friends," Sung asked.

"You saw him the other night. Grizz, and Scott are good kids, but Bud is already far better then they are behind the wheel, and he won't ask Mallory because they are dating." Chris said knowing what Sung's next question was.

"So why not you then?" Sung asked, "Or me for that matter?"

This caught Chris flatfooted; he had never considered the possibility. "Maybe because you don't race," Chris said, looking at Sung who responded with one of his trademark shrugs.

"Maybe."

"I bet it has something to do with the difference between the Galaxie and the Mustang," Ty finally said. "Why else would he ask me? You know the Shammel better then I do, Man he knows the Shammel better then me. So it's got to be something Ford related."

"Or he can't trust what I would tell him because he knows I want to race him," Chris said.

"Maybe. Guess I'll just have to find out," Ty said.

It had taken some doing but Bud had managed to get Scott, Grizz and Matt to clear out before Ty walked over from Chris' shop. He didn't want them to see what he was going to talk about with Ty.

"So what's going on?" Ty asked when he arrived.

Bud sighed. "I need your help," He said. "This car isn't as fast as my Dad's, and everybody seems to think it should be faster."

"So what do you want me to do? And why me?"

"Could you take a look at my car and maybe tell me where I could improve it? I asked you because you drive a Ford and I thought you would be able to help more then anybody else."

Ty almost started to blush. "So what's your Dad's ride?"

"It's a Galaxie; Mallory called it a something-code lightweight." Bud said trying to remember what she had said.

"An R-code?" Ty asked skeptically.

"Yeah that's it," Bud said. "She made a big deal about it. I never thought that car was anything special."

"Oh boy," Ty said, "You don't know how lucky you are. That is one rare Galaxie your ol' man has. Let me take a look at your fine piece though."

Ty was so surprise that he had to force himself to get down under the car so he could take a look at the suspension. It was all shiny new, top shelf stuff. No way he was anywhere near the cars limits the other night. It even had the good override traction bars. Ty brushed himself off before looking under the hood. When he had the prop rod in place he started to take in the details. Everything looked like it had come straight off of Laguna Seca circa 1966. It was a GT 350 in every sense. His eyes almost fell out of his head. This was probably the only person with a Mustang he had ever met that he was jealous of, he loved his Boss, but this GT 350 made him drool.

"You're shittin' me. Ain't no way a Galaxie, even an R-Code lightweight is faster than this car," Ty said. He was more aggravated at the thought that Bud was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

"I'm not lying; my Dad's car defiantly feels faster over the Shammel Highway. Maybe I just don't know how fast I'm going in this car." Bud offered.

"Man you gotta figure this out then," Ty said. "Cuz the Jennings boys are coming an' I hear they're coming after you and Chris."

"Alright then," Bud said, "help me out that's why I asked you to take a look."

"Alright," Ty said, moving over to the passenger side door. "Let's go for a ride."

"Down the Shammel?"

"Where else would you go?" Ty asked he opened the door. He was excited, it's not everyday you get to ride in a GT 350, especially one this close to an R-model. He strapped into the old style bucket seat.

It was dark, and there were few cars around when they finally pulled up to Yates road. There wouldn't be too much of a challenge for the kid, it was late enough so that there wouldn't be too much traffic.

"Go for it," Ty urged.

"Alright," Bud answered, and revved the Ford small block up before launching hard. The force shoved Ty back in his seat. It was amazing, like his Boss, but a different flavor, the two cars were very similar, both were Mustangs at heart, both had very high revving small blocks, actually Windsor small blocks with solid lifters, but Bud's Mustang was lighter, and put out more horsepower, and the unassuming High School kid sitting in the drivers seat handled it like a pro.

His problem became apparent at the first turn, he got on the brakes very early, and slowed down more then he needed to, much more then he needed to. By the time he got back on the gas, after downshifting, the motor had dropped enough revs to be out of the most effective rev range. At the next turn Ty paid attention to the needle on the Stewart Warner Tachometer mounted in a pod at the center of the dash. It was hard to see the needle sometimes but the seat of his pants would tell him about how the cars suspension was stressed.

By the third turn Ty knew that Chris had been right, the kid was cornering well below the cars limits, and he wasn't used to the motor, which was making his exits from turns slower. Ty knew exactly why Bud was driving that way; hopefully the kid could take the advice. Three turns was all it took to figure out why Bud was slower in the Mustang, the rest of the trip down the Shammel was just for fun, when would Ty get another chance like that anyway?

"Damn son. What a nice ride," Ty said admiringly.

"Alright, so what am I doing wrong? Why does it feel so much slower then my Dad's car?" Bud asked his aggravation showing some. He wanted the car to work, he wanted to be able to get the most out of it, and to get what everybody kept telling him was there.

"Here's the deal. Your Dad's Galaxie is a 427," Ty said with a hint of question in his voice.

"If you say so," Bud shrugged

"Well that's what R-code stands for, so yeah, it is. While both motors in the Galaxie and the Mustang will rev to around seven grand because the Galaxies motors is so much larger it produces more torque at a lower RPM. It's a little more flexible then the 289. What you need to do the most is keep the Mustang in the power band. You're having trouble with this because you're braking at all the points for the Galaxie, but because this car is lighter and the suspension is better you can brake later and corner faster."

"Oh. So what you're saying is I need to brake later, and that there's nothing wrong with the car?" Bud asked skeptically.

"Man that's it exactly. You're gonna' have to work hard and practice at it."

"Alright," Bud said glancing back at his car, the gas station lights somehow making it look meaner.

"If you need anymore help, or maybe someone to practice with, give me a call," Ty said, holding out a piece of paper.

"Thanks," Bud said.

"Alright, see you later then," Ty walked back across the street towards Chris' speed shop.

"Hey where's Sung," Ty asked when he walked in.

"Said he had to go meet somebody," Chris answered.

Sung leaned against his AMX, waiting in the poorly lit parking lot of Papas Pizza. The store was still open and the smell of fresh pizza permeated the warn summer air. He waited, despite the passive expression on his face; his ears were waiting to pick out the distinctive sound that was almost never heard in that region of North Carolina. It wasn't long until he picked out the thrum of the motor from the nighttime sounds of teenagers, cars, insects and wildlife. Sung smiled, he had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the sound of a well tuned 13B.

Just a few minutes later the familiar white FC pulled into the parking lot. If Sung hadn't been leaning on his car Ryosuke never would have guessed it was his. The white FC stopped one parking spot over from Sung's car.

"Nice of you to finally show up," Sung said with that casual nonchalance that instantly put people at ease with his laid back personality.

"Nice to see you again too," Ryosuke said extending his right hand to meet Sung's. There was a flash of something in Ryosuke's eyes, and a little something in his voice that told Sung something wasn't quite right. _Nah, it's just because I haven't seen him in a long time, _Sung thought.

"Are you ever going to trade that thing in?" Sung said, nodding towards the FC. "I hear the new Spirit R is going to be the best RX7."

"Says the man standing in front of a car older than either of us," Ryosuke smiled a little, it was like they had seen each other only last week instead of the two years it had really been.

"Hey, this things a classic man," Sung said in total deadpan, with a lopsided grin on his face.

"So what is it?" Ryosuke asked looking at the bright blue car, the matte black on the hood, and top edges of the door made it look very menacing.

"It's a 1970 American Motors AMX. It has a 390 cubic inch V8, with functional Ram Air hood. I put in a five speed, and tuned the motor and suspension."

"I'm a little surprised you're not driving an FD," Ryosuke offered.

"The whole idea of coming here was to disappear and blend in. FDs aren't exactly common around here."

"And AMXs are?" Ryosuke arched an eyebrow.

"Not exactly," Sung admitted. "But I gotta have a little fun don't I?" He grinned.

"So where's this course I've heard so much about?" Ryosuke asked as he lit a cigarette.

"Just a little north of town. It's Route 47; locals call it the Shammel Highway."

"What's it like?"

"It's no Akagi." Sung said. "Pretty standard, two lane blacktop minor elevation changes, but some very tricky cornering."

"Hmm," Ryosuke said and exhaled smoke out his nostrils.

"Is the talent down here as good as you say, or were you just looking for a little taste of home?"

"No, they're as good as I said. The word going around is that the Jennings boys from Monroe are going to be challenging the guys on the Shammel Highway."

"Are they any good?" Ryosuke asked.

"Yeah, although they're not as familiar with the Shammel, but they're good," Sung said.

"Alright, lets go see this course," Ryosuke said, climbing into the AMX.

Sung shrugged, climbed in his car and fired it up. The motor rumbled as he waited for it to warm up a little bit before setting out. In only a few minutes they were at Yates Road. Ryosuke looking at the empty field and thinking it was an odd place for racers to gather.

"So this is the starting line?" Ryosuke asked. Sung nodded. "Did you get this car just for show, or will it run the Shammel too?"

"What you're really asking is if I'm good enough to run the Shammel?" Sung looked over at his friend.

"Well are you?"

Sung didn't answer, a slanted smirk crossed his face and before Ryosuke could say anything the blue AMX was laying down two strips of rubber, the motor roared while the tires squealed, and the car rocketed forward. Ryosuke tried to pay attention to the road. Catching glimpses of the scenery as the headlights flashed past. At the first real challenging turn Sung heal and tow downshifted, setting the AMX into a drift that he controlled expertly.

They accelerated out of the turn; the most that Ryosuke was getting from this was rudimentary. Sung was going too fast to take note of anything other then the road surface. He couldn't see what was on the side of the road, but it didn't really matter, Nakazato and Kenta were going to video tape the course tomorrow. He would drive it too, and study the tape. Right now he was enjoying being with his old friend Sung and roaring down the rural North Carolina road. It reminded him of a time when he was younger. When it was just Sung, Fumihiro, Matsumoto and himself at the top of Mount Akagi. Every once in awhile Ryosuke saw something that he would take note of. But his ride with Sung gave him a good feeling for the course.

Sung drifted the AMX on almost every turn where it made sense, the car slid beautifully, the strong 390 V8 was easy to modulate and kept the back tires spinning. It wasn't a long ride and in no time the two men were back in the parking lot of the pizza joint, the AMX and FC parked side by side.

"It's nice to see you haven't lost your touch," Ryosuke said.

Sung shrugged. "Once you learn you never forget," He said.

"That tuning. I estimate you're making about 400 horsepower," Ryosuke said. "You've done a very good job with the suspension as well _and _you've made it look stock. How many people notice the wheels are 16 inches instead of 14 or 15?"

"Not many," Sung said. Most other people would be caught speechless by such an accurate analysis of their car, but Sung had known Ryosuke too long to be caught of guard. In fact, he had even expected it. Ryosuke had to prove the he hadn't lost his touch either.

Ryosuke lit a cigarette, contemplating the embers on the end for a moment before he spoke again. "So tell me about the competition," He finally said.

Sung didn't answer immediately, he lit a cigarette of his own, a move that afforded him a few moments extra thought. "Well it looks like the Mopar Moon Runners are going to challenge the locals this weekend," He started. "They're constantly going back and forth in Monroe with the F/GM Ridge Rollers. Liam Jennings is the leader, he drives a 1970 Hemi Challenger while his cousin Brian, drives a '69 Dodge Charger painted like the General Lee. Liam is a pretty cool customer, Brian's a hot head. Their cars are mainly stock with some suspension mods; it's what those Mopars need the most."

"The Ridge Rollers are pretty good, Tyrone Gibson is their leader. Drives a Mustang Boss 302, handles real well, but sometimes doesn't have the motor to catch the big block Mopars in a straight line. Jack Gavin is real hot head, he drives a 1969 Pontiac GTO, and he's got some skill but can't seem to fix the understeer of that goat," Ryosuke cut him off.

"Goat?" Ryosuke asked.

"It's a nickname for the Pontiac GTO. The third team member is Quentin Reese. He drives a 1976 Pontiac Firebird. Pretty focused behind the wheel, and pretty calm too," Sung finished.

"What about the locals?" Ryosuke asked.

"Pretty solid. The kid, Bud Moody may have just figured out what he needed to, to unlock the whole potential of his car. This kid is really good; story goes he's been delivering moonshine for his old man for five years."

"Hmm," Ryosuke said.

"Jason drives the Fiat X1/9. I told you about that a very good machine and Jason has good skill to match. And then there's Chris, who drives a Corvette, he's really good."

Ryosuke noticed how Sung glossed over the last driver pretty quickly. There was something in his voice just then too, a reluctance that betrayed more then Sung thought it could.

"So you're pretty close with the local racers?" Ryosuke asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Sung shrugged.

"I understand," Ryosuke offered.

Sung had come to America after running afoul of the Yakuza. It was important for his survival to have the locals on his side, they would be his first warning if anybody came looking for him.

"You do what you need to do," Ryosuke offered, wanting to make sure that his old friend stayed safe.

"Let's go get a drink," Sung said.


	11. Rockin' Into The Night

Chapter 11 Rockin' Into the Night

"Alright. This looks like the spot," Kenta Nakamura said, looking out the window for the landmarks Ryosuke had written down for them. "Hey, how come we always take your car?" He looked at Nakazato

"Because it's better," Nakazato responded, not with malice, just a plain statement of fact.

"Says who?" Kenta asked jokingly.

"Only everybody, that GT-R badge on my trunk lid and," He paused, "I'm older."

"Like that matters, you're not even a member of the Red Suns," Kenta didn't mean to offend Nakazato, but it happened anyways.

"Shut up! Ryosuke asked me here same as you," Nakazato growled.

"Sorry, I was just joking," Kenta said, looking back at Nakazato's frighteningly intense stair, it was as if the man in the drivers seat was trying to bore a hole though him.

"Alright then," Nakazato ground out, "Get the camera out and setup and we'll get moving."

"Ok," Kenta said as he put the camera in place. He pushed the _Record _button.

"Alright," Nakazato nosed his black R32 GT-R out onto the Shammel Highway and went with the flow of traffic. The Nissan RB26 with its twin turbos thrummed as they made their way down the road. Kenta called out the corners and intersections like a rally navigator, making sure that they were getting the video for the right road, and avoiding problems like they had in Medway.

"I wasn't expecting this!" Nakazato fumed as they waited in traffic for the line of school buses and students to empty out the Central Davidson High School parking lot.

"Well look at the time," Kenta said indicating the clock on the GT-R's dash.

"I know," Nakazato snapped. "I just wasn't expecting a school on the course, that's all."

"Yeah," Kenta said. "I guess we're going to have to do this again."

"Yeah, I guess," Nakazato ground out.

"Let's at least follow it to the end," Kenta offered. "I don't think we're that far."

"Why not," Nakazato said.

When they finally were allowed to pass the school Nakazato moved the GT-R out. As soon the speed limit went back up to a normal range Nakazato gunned his black R32, launching ahead without wheelspin, the twin turbos spooling up with a mild whistle. It wasn't long before they found the finish line. They turned around and headed back to William's house, there weren't exactly a lot of hotels in Denton or the surrounding area.

Nakazato drove easily not wanting to attract attention to himself. There were very few cars along the Shammel Highway; it was caught in the lull between the time when school let out and rush hour. As they made the turn at Bethany Methodist Church Nakazato looked in the rearview mirror, something he did unconsciously, this time he noticed there was a car behind them. It wasn't out of the ordinary except that he was closing the gap, not very quickly, but he was gaining on the black GT-R.

"Wonder who this guy thinks he is," Nakazato said.

"What?" Kenta looked back. "He's coming pretty quickly."

"I know," Nakazato looked down at his speedometer; it read 75 km/h.

He wanted to bury his right foot, to make the tachometer needle spin to 7000 RPM and accelerate away, but Ryosuke had said he needed to control his emotions. He had to let this go, besides, it wouldn't do any good to get goaded into a spontaneous race right here, and it might alert the local racers. Ryosuke had warned him about controlling his emotions, now he could at least give it a try. The black car continued to close the gap; he pulled up close to Nakazato's bumper.

"What is this jerk doing?" Nakazato said, keeping his anger in check, if only just barely, his right foot almost twitched because he wanted to push the accelerator.

"You could take him," Kenta said.

"I know," Nakazato ground out. "But it's not the right time or place." He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to keep his anger under control.

"Alright," Kenta shrugged.

As soon as a gap opened in the oncoming lane the black car moved out and cleanly passed Nakazato's GT-R. He watched the black car continue to pull away, chrome bumpers glinting beneath four round taillights that reminded Nakazato of bigger versions of what was on the back of his car. Finally Nakazato loosened his grip on the steering wheel; he had been holding it so tight his knuckles were white. The anger still simmered just below the surface, he had been passed and it was clean, but he wasn't trying either. He hated losing, even if it was to somebody who didn't matter on a back road in the middle of the day. But he had kept a lid on his anger, and that mattered, now all he had to do was make sure he could keep it under control on a race, to show Ryosuke that he was better then he was given credit for, that he deserved his spot with Project D.

Takumi climbed in the 86, armed with a set of directions that William had written out. He was headed for a Barnes and Noble bookstore in Winston-Salem. It wasn't to far away, and he was a little excited because the route took him over the Shammel Highway where they would be practicing soon. The young ace of Project D was on a mission today. After driving Molly's Tiger, and racing against Mike's Cobra. Takumi had wanted to find out more about the cars and the man responsible for them, surely he would be able to find something at the bookstore.

He pulled out of William's driveway and headed towards Route 47, always on the lookout for the markers Ryosuke had told all of them about, the start line, the finish line, and the bigger landmarks. It was a good opportunity to take a look at the course to see it before the video, before long though he was turning off of Route 47 and onto Route 8.

Winston-Salem was easily the biggest city that Takumi had seen while he was in America. On their trip down to North Carolina William had planned the route to take them around New York City, and Philadelphia, and pretty much all the major cities between Maine and North Carolina. The bookstore was easy enough to find, especially being in a strip mall. Inside Takumi was confronted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods as he began walking up and down the aisles looking for the automotive section. On the fourth aisle, an employee stopped him.

"Can I help you?" The young man asked.

"Uh yeah," Takumi stammered, "I was looking for the automotive section."

"Transportation? Sure it's just over this way. Was there something in particular you were looking for?"

"I was looking a book on the Shelby Cobra."

"Oh, alright," The employee said, and after scanning the shelf for a moment pulled a large hardcover book from the shelf. "Here you go," He said holding the book out to Takumi.

"Thanks," Takumi said and took the book into the café so he could take a look before buying it. The book had everything he was looking for; it talked about who Carol Shelby was, about what caused him to make the Cobra and a little bit of how he built the first ones. The pictures were the best part though, showing different cars, but Takumi's favorites were easily the photos taken at races showing Cobras powering out of turns, or passing Corvettes and Ferraris. It was a neat book, but somehow Takumi was afraid to bring it back to where Project D was staying. He felt like it was something that had to be kept hidden, but it was so big, and there wasn't a whole lot of places to keep it.

Finally he decided that he just couldn't pass up the opportunity and made his way to the cash register. Now all he had to worry about was getting it in the house.

"If I'd known you were going to the bookstore I would have asked to come along," Ryosuke said when Takumi walked in the door.

"Sorry, I didn't think to ask," Takumi said.

"That's alright, what did you get?" Ryosuke asked looking at the larger then expected bag.

"Just a book about the Shelby Cobra," Takumi admitted almost sheepishly.

"Mike and Molly's cars have got you interested in Anglo-American hybrids?" Ryosuke asked.

"They didn't have any electric motors," Takumi said in his spaced out tone.

"No, they didn't. But hybrid has also been used to refer to cars like the Cobra or Sunbeam Tiger, where some of the major components were from one manufacturer or country, and other major parts were from a different manufacturer or country."

"Oh yeah," Takumi said, "That makes sense."

"Still thinking about Mike's car?" Ryosuke asked.

"A little," Takumi said, hoping that Ryosuke wouldn't be able to guess the idea that was just beginning to form in his head, an idea that was just beginning to form in his head, an idea that might not ever get out of his head, or even voiced to another person, but he had to see. Looking at it and thinking about it were the only way he would ever figure out if the idea was even feasible.

"I'd be interested in taking a look at that book some time," Ryosuke said before returning his attention to his laptop.

"Sure, just tell me when," Takumi answered.

_Clearly Mike's Cobra and Molly's Tiger have had a profound effect on you, _Ryosuke thought to himself. _You're more motivated to learn about an opponent's car then I've ever seen you before, maybe this will finally make you understand the limitations of your 86. You may have an even more ambitious plan then you realize, _Ryosuke thought, and his brain kicked into overdrive.

_I wish I had you're ability to be excited about the future. To try and do what you will eventually conclude. To have that promise of a career in what you want. Takumi, you will never realize how much I envy you and my brother._

The thoughts continued to swirl through his mind as his laptop powered up. He needed to assemble a list of suitable Japanese cars. Once Takumi had concluded what the Leader of Project D already knew, he would need help. Everything would go so much smoother if Ryosuke was prepared, he already knew that. _He'll need my help, and it won't take long to make the list, not many cars from Japan will fit the necessary parameters._

_Do I really have to envy them? _Ryosuke asked himself as he typed, his fingers clicking away at the keyboard without much thought. On an impulse Ryosuke opened his music player and started listening to Quadrophenia as he worked. Mike had said the music would help him and it already had, he had come to the realization that the only world he really belonged to was the racing world, the group that had never tried to make him anything other then what he wanted to be. Maybe there were things he had missed, after talking to Mike and listening to the music he had decided to race again, maybe there was something else there, maybe.

Time continued to tick by, Ryosuke continued to work, oblivious to the heat, the humidity. Sitting there at the kitchen table, looking at his computer screen, fingers still tapping away furiously, before he knew what was happening the last few notes of _Love Reign O'er Me _faded away into the sounds of crashing surf. Ryosuke glanced at the clock, rubbed his eyes and saved the file had been working on.

Knowing that he had already spent too much time working on the computer Ryosuke started a new file, only naming it before saving: Project D, Long Term Plan.

Three cars were waiting in the field at Yates Road, the darkness of the night made everything feel close, the few near by streetlights gave them enough light to see by as they waited for three more cars. Ty Gibson stood near his Boss Mustang; the other members of his team did the same.

"Why are we all the way up here Ty? This isn't our turf," Jack Gavin inquired. He was in his early twenties; he had dark colored hair and wore a tight fitting T-shirt and blue jeans, a leather jacket draped over the passenger seat of his black 1969 Pontiac GTO. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, and waited for Ty's answer with a scowl. He was quick to anger and didn't like anything other than Fords and General Motors products.

"Because the Moon Runners are going to be up here this weekend and I thought we might be able to help some of the locals," Ty answered.

"Let the locals do their own fighting," Jack scoffed. "We don't have to come all this way to mix it up with those Mopar boys; we can do that back in Munro."

"I thought it would be good practice," Ty said, "And because I was invited."

"Invited?" Jack scoffed. "What does somebody think this fucking place is the Ritz, or Laguna Seca?"

"Yeah, invited," Ty responded, getting a little agitated with Jack, he could be so combative that it even grated on his friend's nerves. "One of the locals needs some help practicing. I thought you two might want to check this place out too," Ty shrugged, "Of course this isn't an official practice, so you could always go home."

"Nah, we're already here no sense in going home," Jack admitted.

"A'ight," Ty said, as in the distance they heard the sound of rumbling V8s. "Here they come."

The first car onto Yates Road was Mallory's Mustang, followed by Bud, Matt, Grizz and Scott. They all parked on the side of the road next to the other cars. Jack immediately started to gesture and make faces, but he calmed down just before Ty greeted Mallory and Bud."

"Sup guys?" Ty said, clapping Bud's hand and pulling him in for a friendly pat on the back.

"Nothing much," Bud responded.

"Ready to have some fun," Mallory smiled. Grizz, Scott and Matt maintained a respectful distance, in awe and jealous of Mallory and Bud at the same time for being so readily accepted by Ty Gibson, one of the best racers from Munro.

"A'ight guys this is Bud and Mallory, the second and third fastest on the Shammel Highway. They drive that pair of badass Mustangs."

"Fourth fastest," Mallory laughed a little, "I still haven't beat Jason."

"A'ight," Ty nodded, "Back there's Grizz, Scott and Matt; they drive those Camaros and the Barracuda."

Grizz gave a feeble wave to the two other members of the F/GM Ridge Rollers, Jack Gavin and Quentin Reese. Suddenly Matt was at their side vigorously shaking Jack's hand.

"Hi! I'm Matt Holman, please to meet you guys! I race for the Shammel Highwaymen."

"Ty what's going on?" Jack asked angrily as he tried to separate himself from Matt. "They're just kids, and who decided to invite the Mopar mother," He pointed a finger accusingly at Grizz.

"You know we don't roll with them. F/GM, you know what that means kid?" Jack asked directing his ire at Grizz. The younger man froze on the spot, not knowing what to do. He could yell back, he could try and throw a punch, but he had never made someone so angry just for driving a Plymouth.

"Ford General Motors! That's what F/GM stands for, not Mopar, not Plymouth or Dodge," Jack said, he wasn't yelling but it was clear he was angry.

"Come on Jack," Quentin said, pulling his friends shoulders. "He drives a Barracuda, so what? It's not like he's a Moon Runner or anything."

Bud clenched his fist, and Mallory pulled his arm, the night air was suddenly very tense as the High School kids waited to see what would happen next. Bud was angry, it seemed so stupid for a person to get so worked up about what another person drove, but Jack had taken it out on Grizz, one of Bud's friends. He clenched his fists again, and felt a tug from Mallory pulling him back.

"Jack! That's enough!" Ty bellowed. "They invited us here to practice. You have no right to get on the kid like that. He's not a Moon Runner, and he's the leader of a team that has two Mustang and two Camaros," All of the kids from Denton snapped around at that remark. "So, you give the kid a chance before you go off and hate him because he drives a Mopar."

"Besides," Mallory said. "We may decide we don't want to run with a Pontiac." She put a hand on her hip and glowered at Jack.

"Alright," He said, backing off. "I'm just not used to being friendly with people who drive Mopars," Jack made the last word sound like a curse. He walked over to Grizz. "No hard feelings," He said shaking Grizz's hand and squeezing a little harder then he needed.

"No hard feelings," Grizz echoed.

For the next few minutes the two groups milled around, looking at each other's cars, getting to know one another. Bud and Mallory walked arm in arm around the gathered cars.

"This is kinda cool," Mallory said.

"Yeah," Bud seconded as he took in the details of the giant bird painted on the hood of Quentin Reese's midnight blue 1976 Pontiac Firebird Tran Am. It was sort of amazing that it had been done.

"I never thought I would have a boyfriend who would come drive the Shammel with me, and I _definetly _didn't think I would ever be out here with a couple of teams," She smiled at Bud, who looked back at her in the pale moonlight.

"It is pretty cool, isn't it?" Bud said before smiling back. Bud pulled Mallory close, his heart racing a little. Every time he kissed Mallory his heart fluttered. Just as they were about to touch they heard Ty.

"So are we just gonna stand around all night, or are we gonna use these cars for what they were meant for?" Ty called out.

Bud and Mallory looked back in his direction, mere inches apart. Mallory giggled, and gave Bud a quick kiss on the lips.

"Come on lets go," She called as she trotted back to her car. Other engines were starting to rumble. Bud let out a little sigh.

"A'ight, we're going to take two warm up runs as a group." Ty called over the din. "Leave some space and keep it cool. We'll meet back here and then start individual timed runs. Mallory, why don't you set the pace? We'll go when you're ready."

Mallory nodded back at Ty.

"A'ight, Bud pay attention to the braking points, we're not going flat out, so they won't be exactly the same place you'll brake in competition, but they should be closer then what you've been using in your ol' man's Galaxie," Ty gave Bud a couple of pointers to start with.

"Alright," Bud nodded.

"Good," Ty said, and headed back to his Boss. Once seated in his car he looked over towards Mallory's black Mustang, She gave him a thumbs up, asking if he was ready. Ty returned the sign, and revved his motor. They were ready to go. One by one each of the cars roared onto Route 47, V8s rumbling and tires squealing as Mallory led the way. For the first run she was only going half speed, with Matt, Scott, Grizz, and the Ridge Rollers in tow it wouldn't be fair if she did a normal warm up lap. The only person who would have been able to keep up was Bud.

Mallory was really happy. She couldn't contain her smile as she blasted down the Shammel Highway at the lead of the eight car train. Her Mustang's motor sang its tenor song flawlessly. She was racing and with Bud at the same time, her two favorite things.

Right behind Mallory was Bud, relatively bored at such a slow pace. He was happy to be with Mallory, but secretly, a little glad that she was in front so that she couldn't see him as they made their way down the Shammel Highway. Bud focused on the taillights of his girlfriend's Mustang. Knowing that she was probably using her regular braking points, he watched as she sailed right past the braking points he had always used in the Galaxie. It made his foot twitch, and his palms sweat every time, his body from years of habit wanted to hit the brakes out of reflex. Tough and a little frightening were the only ways to explain it, but knowing Mallory was in the lead made him feel more comfortable. She wouldn't let anything happen to her car, especially on a warm up lap.

"This is so cool!" Matt yelled in his car, adrenaline was running wild through his veins he was so excited. This was his first night practice on the Shammel Highway, and he was part of something big. In his car, rowing his own gears with Scott in front of him and a badass GTO behind him, the only thing he thought could get better was his own technique. Even following Mallory's line at half speed it was still faster than he had ever gone on his own at night and it was a little scary. Matt used the brakes more for the turns and then used his motor to get back to the proper distance from Scott's car.

"I know this is a warm up lap, but this kid needs to pick it up," Jack growled to himself. He was still ticked off about practicing with a Mopar guy, but at least he was behind a Chevy. A Chevy that was being driven frustratingly slow, braking to much before turns, getting on the gas too late, and not accelerating fast enough for his tastes anyways.

"I hope the whole practice doesn't go like this," He ground out again.

Luckily for Jack the whole practice didn't go that way. After a second, quicker warm up lap as a group they broke off and ran individual timed runs. They were finished just before midnight, and gathered back in the field at Yates Road. Mallory, Ty and Quentin talked about tuning and technique, while Jack continued to glower at Grizz and his Barracuda, but said nothing. Grizz and Scott had to keep Matt under control, if they didn't know any better Grizz would have thought Matt had just won the Daytona 500.

Bud stood next to Mallory and said nothing.

Tuning technique, what they were talking about was over his head, his Dad had always taken care of the Galaxie, everything from oil changes, to tires and suspension. He'd done the same when Bud brought home the Mustang. They kept talking about technique; all he knew was just how he had always driven on the Shammel Highway. Slowly, eventually they all took off leaving Bud and Mallory the last two standing in the field.

"This was fun, we should do it more often," Mallory said happily, twirling on the balls of her feet.

"Yeah," Bud said, glad that he hadn't made himself look like a fool in the course of the nights practice.

"I'm really glad we got to hang out with Ty and his team, even if that Jack guy was kind of an ass to Grizz," She kept going, excited for once that she finally belonged, somewhere she _could _actually belong to a group like that. Almost all of the kids at school wouldn't hang out with her, except for Bud and a select few. It just felt so good to have some friends, even Chris, Jason and Sung, didn't really count. They respected her, but weren't overly friendly, she was their competition after all.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Bud asked slowly.

"Sure," Mallory responded slowly as well, looking at Bud quizzically.

"Why did you stick up for Grizz? I mean he's never stuck up for you like that, and people have picked on you more than just that."

"I don't know," Mallory said quietly, and shrugged. "I know what it's like to get picked on for being different. Sometimes all it takes is one person speaking up, just to have someone on your side, and I thought about how much just having one person would have helped when people were picking on me."

A tear began to form at the corner of her eye as Mallory remembered some of the times over the past few years; she wiped it away before Bud could see anything.

"Alright," Bud said, "I appreciate you sticking up for him. I'm sure he'll say thanks the next time we hang out," He gave Mallory a hug.

"It's late, we'd better get going, and you have you delivery to make." She smiled.

"Goodnight," Bud said, and hugged her, giving her an extra squeeze before letting go.

They climbed into their Mustangs and drove away, motors singing into the night.

_Hey everybody,_

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think. Don't forget the hidden references throughout the story._

_Thanks, _

_Margrave._


	12. Gimme Three Steps

Chapter 12 Gimme Three Steps.

It was late, it was dark and Ryosuke Takahashi, Akagi's White Comet sat in his FC on the side of Route 47, waiting patiently for what he knew would be coming along the road any second. The clock on the dashboard showed 1:55 AM. Some cars, local racers Ryosuke had already been through just after midnight, headed back towards Denton at a decent speed. He wasn't out there for them tonight. No he had to see just how good this kid really was, a chance to see before the race.

A pain began to creep into Ryosuke's neck from looking south down Route 47 for so long. He rubbed it a little bit, the motor in the FC idling in wait. It wouldn't be too much longer now. Headlights glinted in the distance, moving far faster then any Ryosuke had seen that night. Without thought his body tensed and was immediately ready, pulling the harness over his shoulder, prodding the gas pedal and holding the clutch to the floor. The Galaxie thundered by at well over the legal limit. It was quite possibly the loudest car Ryosuke had ever heard.

With a perfect balance of clutch and throttle Ryosuke launched the white FC in pursuit of the Galaxie. The tachometer spun around almost to the stop before he grabbed for second gear, the motor screaming as he chased alter the dark blue sedan. A pair of round after burner style taillights and the occasional glint off of the aluminum back bumper were the only things Ryosuke could see, making it very difficult to gauge the distance between the two cars. All that was certain was that the Galaxie was still beyond the reach of the FC's headlights.

_You're good. _Ryosuke thought as he began to close the gap, _but nothing to special yet._

The cabin of the Galaxie came alive with extra lights as Ryosuke caught up and held a respectful distance so he could observe. The young man behind the wheel of the Galaxie glanced in his rearview mirror. _Who could be tailing me? _He thought, a cold claw grasping his stomach as the possibility that the car behind him was a cop. Bud put his floor to the floor, the Galaxie surging forward the motor roaring even louder then before.

_Alright, I've got your attention. _Ryosuke thought as the gap between the two cars grew. _Let's see if you can keep this up? _The leader of Project D continued to follow the dark blue Galaxie, absorbing the details of Bud's driving style, he focused so intently on the car ahead of him that he could almost feel the energy.

"You're good." Ryosuke finally admitted to himself.

Bud glanced in the mirror again, even though he knew the headlights were still there. No one had ever followed him this long. Very rarely would he catch the attention of a Police officer, but he always outran them pretty quickly. Street racers usually faired better then law enforcement, when it came to following him, but never this close for this long. Drastic measures were the only way that Bud was going to shake the tail, and he knew what he was going to do. The two cars were approaching Bethany United Methodist Church, Bud knew this would be his best opportunity. The 427 continued to bellow as it ran close to the red line in fourth gear. Bud slipped his finger under the T-handle on the shifter. It was still the reverse lock-out, like it had always been. Bud anxiously looked for the marker that his father had told him about.

Ryosuke knew what turn was coming, and was sure that he would be able to make up some of the gap, after all his FC was so much smaller, and lighter it would handle so much better then a car the size and weight of a Galaxie. Then, way before the braking point he had picked out the taillights on the car in front came on. Out of instinct Ryosuke stabbed the brake pedal, the blast thing he wanted to do was rear end somebody. The brake lights stayed on for a few second, but by the time Ryosuke realized that the big blue car wasn't decelerating a large gap had opened. Without warning the taillights of the Galaxie disappeared altogether just before he should have been tackling the turn.

"Cute." Ryosuke uttered, a smirk on his face. Now he had a considerable gap to make up if he was going to catch the Galaxie and he knew it, because while he had applied the brakes and decelerated too much and to early the Galaxie had continued at the same speed. The timing was absolutely perfect as well, it had left no space to try and accelerate again before the real braking point for the turn, causing Ryosuke to have to maintain speed before entering the corner which only allowed the Galaxie to open a wider gap. Ryosuke was not surprised when he didn't see the taillights or headlights of Bud's car in the distance, he would have opened a considerable gap.

_That's a very interesting trick you pulled there. _Ryosuke thought. _But you've already show me too much. It was certainly impressive, to have timing that precise to be able to execute a non-driving maneuver whole going at such a high rate of speed illustrates just how good you are. _Ryosuke shifted again trying to catch up to Bud.

"That was close." Bud said, letting out a sigh of relief as the car that had been following him charged past the power substation. Bud leaned his head back until it rested on the top of the low back bucket seat. He could see the taillights of the car that had been following him accelerate away as he waited in the silent cockpit of his car. He continued to wait, for it was deathly important that his final destination for the deliveries remain a secret, even if the person following him had merely been a very good street racer. After what seemed like an eternity Bud twisted the ignition key with his left hand the mighty 427 erupted into life. With his right hand he flicked the toggle switch back to the 'on' position, which supplied power to the taillights. He turned on the headlights and pulled out from behind the power substation and continued his delivery.

In the course of modifying the Galaxie for 'shine running Bud's father had not only improved the suspension drastically but also equipped a few tricks that would give the driver a decidedly unfair advantage. The reverse lock-out T-bar on the shifter had been turned into a momentary contact switch that triggered the brake lights. Mounted under the dashboard, out of sight the toggle switch cut power to the taillights entirely, making it difficult and down right dangerous o pursue the Galaxie, but it also allowed it to hid. Escape was the only thing that really mattered.

Ryosuke followed the Shammel Highway to the end before turning around and heading back to William's.

_Very impressive. _ He thought.

Chris Duntov looked up from the shelf he was stocking with wheel cleaner when he heard the rumble of a small displacement V8 pass the store. It was a sound he had learned quickly. Bud was here. He stood up, brushed off his knees and was waiting when Bud entered.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chris asked.

"Nothing much." Bud responded, but Chris could see it in his eyes, there was something going on.

"Hey Bud," Sung said, brushing a lock of dark hair out of his face.

"Hey, were either of you on the Shammel last night?" The High School kid asked.

"No," Chris frowned.

"Me neither," Sung said with a shrug.

"Why, what going on?" Chris asked, a little more serious than usual.

"I was tailed last night," Bud admitted slowly, "By someone very good. He followed me longer then anybody ever has on the Shammel."

"It wasn't either of us," Chris frowned.

"I know I remember what your cars look like. The one that followed me," Bud paused, "I've never seen before."

"What do you remember about it?" Chris asked, scratching his head.

"It was white," Bud said, his blue eyes dancing as he tried to remember, "It was a hatchback, with four round taillights."

"Did it have pop up headlights?" Chris asked, while Sung remained silent. He already knew who the car belonged to.

"I'm not sure," Bud said, "I thought it might be one of the Jennings guys."

"Nah," Chris said, his brown eyes narrowing, "Liam owns a white Dodge Challenger, but the brakes lights were rectangular."

"Sounds like an FC," Sung said, knowing exactly who had followed Bud on the Shammel Highway.

"An FC, what's that?" Bud asked.

"It's a Mazda RX-7 made between 1985 and 1990, weren't round taillights used on the later models?" Chris said, trying to remember some of the car he had seen while he was stationed with the Navy in Japan.

"Yeah," Sung said.

"I've never heard of that model," Bud said.

"They're not exactly common around here," Chris answered, wracking his brain to try and see if he could recall any of the local teams using an FC. "Must be from out of town, have you heard anything Sung?"

Sung shrugged, making his dark hair twitch a little.

"That's weird," Chris paused, "The other day I could have sworn I passed an R32 on the Shammel."

"R32?" Bud asked.

"Nissan Skyline GT-R made between 1989 and 1995," Chris explained.

"They were never officially exported to the United States," Sung offered, but quietly he feared that Chris would put the puzzle together. If Ryosuke had only followed Bud at least there was a plausible deniability, but Chris following a GT-R on the Shammel Highway. He was going to figure out that something was up. Maybe not exactly what, but Chris was going to get curious at some point, and it wouldn't be long before he started asking questions.

"Thought for sure we would have heard if someone around here had a GT-R," Chris said.

"Yeah," Sung seconded, "Could it be someone from Winston-Salem, or Lexington?"

"I suppose, but those type of guys don't usually make it out here," Chris said, "Keep your eyes and ears open for any details."

"Sure," Bud said not feeling at all better about what had happened the previous night. He never got followed that long on the Shammel, never.

"Man, I think you got a problem," Sung said, looking sideways at Chris.

"What?" He asked a little surprised.

"Hey, I gotta go guys," Bud said.

"Later," Chris said before turning back to Sung, "What are you talking about?"

"Well you keep getting caught up with these mysterious types. First it was Bud and that Galaxie, now you're gonna start chasing after an R32 and an FC. Or is it that you don't want to beat Bud because you're starting to like the kid."

"Huh," Chris shrugged, trying to appear like Sung was crazy, "I don't know, I just feel like theirs something big going on. Just a few weeks ago I thought the competition was pretty stale. It was only a matter of time before Mallory would be able to take Jason, but it would still be a long time before she would be a real challenge to me. First the Galaxie rumor starts, and all this talent starts coming to Denton. First the Jennings, and now we have high end Japanese stuff hangin' around on the Shammel? Something's up."

"See, this is what I was talking about," Sung said.

"This looks like it should be a pretty fast course," Keisuke said as the video rewound.

"It is," Ryosuke confirmed from the back of the group. "But as you'll see tonight there are few places that are deceptive. It is the mastery of these elements that is going to mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"Right," Keisuke responded.

"Before we go watch the video again," Ryosuke started, "You all need to be aware of the fact that we could be facing numerous challenges in this area. We seemed to have stepped into the middle of a turf war between the groups who call the Shammel Highway home and another group from further off which pulled a third group into the fray. So we may end up having to defend ourselves against numerous challenges. Don't let any of them goad you into races before we've officially issued our challenge," Ryosuke fixed his gaze first on his brother, and then on Nakazato, before continuing, "There's a very real possibility that we may have to share practice time."

The members of Project D answered in the affirmative.

That night Sung was waiting when Project D arrived at the field. He had to admit it was an impressive sight, a couple of RX-7s leading the way, an 86, an S14 and an R32, followed by a couple of Ford Econoline vans. Nobody in the area had anything like that, most local racers were content to stay within a few hours of home as long he'd been in America Sung had never heard of a team that would stay overnight at or near a course instead of going home. The rule of thumb appeared to be if a team or driver couldn't go to a course, race and return home in one night he didn't go.

He leaned against the AMX, waiting for someone to notice that he was there. They began to setup a generator, light poles and drop lights, the back doors of the vans left open for access to tool and tires. Finally someone noticed and peeled off from the rest of the group.

"Hey Sung," Keisuke said as he approached, "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah," Sung returned looking the younger Takahashi brother up and down. It was definitely the same person who he known in Japan two years prior, right down to his spiky bleach blonde hair, somehow he was different, more mature, but still Keisuke Takahashi.

"What have you been doing?" Keisuke asked.

"Keeping my head down, and staying safe," Sung said, his lopsided grin reminding Keisuke that Sung always seemed like he knew something you didn't.

"Aniki told me. You know that car may not be the best thing for keeping a low profile."

"I know," Sung paused, "Neither's your."

"Huh," Keisuke laughed, "I'm not trying to keep a low profile. I'm trying to leave a mark for Project D. If they remember the car because of how it looks they'll remember who beat them."

Both men looked across the field at the yellow FD, bedecked with carbon fiber. It was a serious machine and not many people would ever forget seeing it in rural North Carolina, nor were they likely to see another like it.

"Well watch out, the competition is very tough around here," Sung warned.

"They tell us that everywhere," Keisuke scoffed, "The only place where it was really true was Medway."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Sung said with a wry smile.

"I hope you're right," Keisuke said as he lit a cigarette, "I'd like a good challenge, it seems everywhere we go there's a lot of mediocre drivers, a few good ones, and maybe a couple of very good ones, maybe."

He was frustrated Sung could hear it in his voice.

"Isn't that true no matter where you go, no matter what you do?" Sung asked.

"I guess," The younger Takahashi sighed exhaling smoke out his nostrils at the same time.

Neither man said anything for a moment, they watched as the other members of Project D went through their preparations. Matsumoto and Tomiguchi made last minute adjustments to the suspensions of the 86 and FD before moving on to Kenta's S14 and Nakazato's R32.

"What's going on with your brother?" Sung finally asked in a hushed tone.

"You noticed it too," Keisuke paused to take a long drag from his cigarette, "I'm not sure. I'm glad you noticed it too. I was beginning to think that I was wrong."

"Well what's been going on?" Sung asked.

"I don't know," Keisuke paused, it was clear he was agitated, "He seems like he's distracted, like he's not focusing on the problem in front of him, caught somewhere else, I don't know."

"You know your brother, even when he's distracted is better then most people giving it total concentration."

"I know, but that's not the point," Keisuke growled, his free hand balling into a fist, "It's that Mike bastard. He took Aniki to breakfast while we were in Maine. After that he started acting funny."

"What do you mean?" Sung asked, as calm and passive as ever.

"Well after that, he had Matsumoto reset the suspension and motor on the FC. He volunteered to be the driver for a tie breaker between us and the Bow Tie Boys."

"Wait, do you think he's planning a comeback tour?"

"It sure looks like it. But he had told me that he was done street racing," Keisuke sighed again as if he was giving up. "I've been afraid to ask him."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Keisuke said softly. "I didn't really feel like I can question this. I use to question him all the time, and he's never wrong. Somehow I feel like if I question him on this he'll stop, and I don't want him to regret anything."

"Do you think he'd stop if I asked?" Sung was curious. Now that Keisuke had admitted that something was up he knew it wasn't just two years apart that had made his old friend seem different.

"I don't know," Keisuke said again. "But I want to know what he says if you ask. I gotta go, time to practice." Keisuke ground out the cigarette butt with a little extra fervor then usual.

Keisuke settled into the bucket seat of his FD, the motor thrummed at idle. His older brother came to the driver's side.

"What's up Aniki?" Keisuke asked.

"Seventy percent tonight. Get acquainted with the course. We don't have to push things like we do back home."

"Alright," Keisuke nodded, shaking the tips of his spiky bleach blonde hair.

Keisuke lined up the yellow FD on the starting line, Tomiguchi sitting beside him.

"Have a nice chat with Sung?" The mechanic asked.

"Yeah," Keisuke said.

"It's good to see he's alright,"

"Yeah. You ready?" Keisuke asked.

"You know I am." Tomiguchi answered.

Keisuke gave the accelerator a couple of pumps, the motor sounded good, the blow off valve cracked like a whip. Keisuke launched the bright yellow FD hard, balancing the accelerator and clutch with skill to minimize wheel spin.

Sung walked over to where the rest of Project D was as Keisuke took off on his first practice run of the night.

"Hey Sung," Matsumoto called, still leaning under the hood of Takumi's 86, instantly a couple of others started looking around. Sung waved back.

"Keisuke's improved a lot," Sung said as he stood next to Ryosuke.

"He has," The older Takahashi brother admitted. "He still has some work to do."

"You can always be better," Sung shrugged. "So why is he out here still running the street when he could be dominating Tsukuba, or Fuji?"

"Like I said, he still has work to do."

"Alright," Sung said. "How late you guys going to be out here tonight? Don't forget some of the locals might come along."

"I'd like everyone to make two runs." Ryosuke said.

"Even you?" Sung cocked a wry grin.

"I've done enough practice here," Ryosuke said, but Sung could see the far away look in his friend's eyes.

"You followed Bud last night."

"I did," Ryosuke said, his focus returning. "How did you find out?"

"He cam and asked Chris if he could identify the car. He thought you were one of the Jennings," Sung paused. "Chris knew what an FC is, he was in Japan with the Navy for awhile. I didn't tell him it was you, but he's really curious."

"Thanks," Ryosuke said, looking at Sung. He knew his old friend would never sell him out.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything. The North Carolina night was filled sounds, the team members working, motors idling and briefly screaming into the higher RPM range as they were tuned. Crickets chirped, and animals rustled in the brush, in the distance they could still hear Keisuke making his way down the Shammel Highway.

"What's bothering you Ryosuke?"


	13. Getaway

Chapter 13 Getaway

Ryosuke Takahashi didn't answer right away, the question hung in the air unanswered. He looked into the distance, it was tough to answer a question that you hadn't even asked yourself.

"I need to focus on practice tonight," He finally said. "I'll call you about it tomorrow."

"Alright." Sung knew it was a dodge, but he also knew his friend well enough not to force the issue. When Ryosuke made up his mind there was no sense in trying to change it. He would come around when he was ready.

"So what did you think of Bud?" Sung asked changing the topic.

"He's good," Ryosuke said, and if Sung hadn't seen the kid with his own eyes Ryosuke's endorsement was all he would have needed.

"He handled the car very well," Ryosuke continued, "Especially considering its weight. He pulled a very interesting trick as well, the brake lights came on but the car didn't decelerate, then they went out completely, but the headlights were still on. It's very clever, but I'm still trying to figure out why you would modify a car in such a way."

"For running moonshine," Sung said. "The kids been delivering the stuff his old man makes, it's completely illegal, so they will do whatever it takes to outrun, or hide from the police."

"So modifying cars is important to running moonshine? What other types of things do they do?" Ryosuke asked.

"Of course," Sung answered. "The most common modifications are engine swaps, and suspensions, they need to make the car look like its sitting level when they're loaded with cases of moonshine. They used to be a lot more creative with things but nowadays you can order a crate motor from Ford, Chevy, and Chrysler and put it in just about anything. Theirs so much aftermarket support that it's almost to easy to build the cars now."

"Hmm, but Bud was driving a Galaxie," Ryosuke said. "An older one."

Sung did his best to hide his surprise, but Ryosuke was right.

"Sure," Sung said. "But nobody but Bud and his Dad have ever seen the car. It's not like he brings it to the shows, all I can tell you is its blue, hell you followed him so I know you know more then I do."

"Well it's tough for me to tell, I've never seen an unmodified Galaxie," Ryosuke admitted, stroking his chin. "In Maine we saw a heavily modified 1962 Galaxie in action, and Bud's has right around the same amount of horsepower, somewhere between 480 and 500, but I think his suspension is tuned better, but they're the only two I have ever seen in America."

"They're not exactly common anymore."

"Still, I've seen more of those then AMXs," Ryosuke gave his friends a small smile.

The yellow FD rumbled back into the lot, Matsumoto turned to Takumi.

"You ready to go?"

"Sure," Takumi answered and climbed into his trusty 86. Takumi lined up on the start line, he pumped the accelerator a couple of times sending the needle quickly around the dial.

"Here we go," Takumi said. He revved the engine up and modulated the clutch, accelerating down the first straightaway, he shifted to second, the silver top 4AG screaming mightily. He left it almost flat out as the road climbed and turned gradually to the left. The first turn opened onto a larger straightaway and Takumi shifted for fourth gear, RPMs continuing to climb towards red line.

After an easy right hand turn Takumi turned into the tougher banked left hander that followed after another short straight away. Takumi guided the 86 into a tight right hander. At speed Takumi became aware of the fact that while the turns for the most part were challenging they were often connected by moderately long straightaways. Back home overcoming straightaways had never been to much of a challenge, even if his opponent had more power it was often negated by the slope of the mountain pass, but here in America, there were no up hills and down hills, no specialists, just courses that usually had some of each, combinations of uphill and downhill. This course had more uphill then downhill sections, but the incline usually wasn't bad enough to put the 86 a severe disadvantage. It was slightly discouraging to be at such a disadvantage.

Finally the road pitched down and Takumi tackled the fast left hand turn at Yates Road, the level spot bothering him only slightly. He was more in his element here, if only briefly as the road straightened out, and then began to climb before the next right hand turn. After the quick turn Takumi found himself on another long straightaway that gradually started to turn to the right. After a couple of brief undulations Takumi found himself facing the steepest part of the course, nowhere near as severe as what he had seen in Akina every night, but enough so that he could feel the affect on the 86s acceleration.

_I want more power! _Takumi thought as he continued his way down the Shammel Highway.

On the course Takumi's best chance was the same course mastery that had served him so well in the past, knowing every turn, the contours of the road, the dips, rises and bumps, he had to be on top of the course, that was all.

Nakazato waited for Takumi to get back, the twin turbo RB26 idled as he waited. He looked around the field, still slightly in awe of Project D. Mechanics, vans, generators, air compressors, who did this? It was street racing after all, this type of effort was usually reserved for the pros, or gymkhana, but street racing? As far as Nakazato could remember Project D was the only team that had ever made an effort like this, and now he was in America, it couldn't be better, even if it was a little tough to get used to.

"You ready Nakazato?" Tomiguchi asked. "I think Takumi is almost back."

"Absolutely," Nakazato said, narrowing his eyes. "Hey, who's that talking to Ryosuke?"

"Oh, that's Sung, he's an old friend of the Red Suns from Japan, I don't know how he ended up here though."

"Huh," Nakazato paused. "I hope he doesn't sell us out."

"Nah, Sung wouldn't do anything like that."

"Alright," Nakazato said skeptically before climbing into his R32.

Nakazato pulled his car to the starting line, ready and waiting. Ryosuke had said to take it easy, and he would, he had to prove that he belonged here, that this team, with its support vans, generators, and dedicated mechanics was better off with him, and he knew he needed to prove to Ryosuke that he could control his anger.

"Come on, you ready?" Tomiguchi asked, bringing Nakazato back to the real world.

"Yeah," He said and revved the motor a couple of times before holding at 3000 RPM. Nakazato released the clutch. Channeling its power through all four wheels the R32 GT-R launched into the night with a roar, and minimal wheel spin.

•••

Sung pulled up to the house where Project D was staying, as if on cue Ryosuke walked from the house and got in the car. They had agreed that it would be better to take the AMX, oddly it would draw less attention than Ryosuke's FC. Neither of the two men said anything at first as they headed towards Lexington for breakfast.

"So did you guys have a good practice last night?" Sung finally asked.

"Yes," Ryosuke responded, "Everybody got in the laps they were supposed to and there were no mechanical problems, all in all it was a good night."

"You didn't try to ambush Bud again did you?"

"No," Ryosuke said. "He's good, but I don't need to see him again."

"You sure, you know he doesn't drive that Galaxie for the races," Sung reminded his old friend.

"I know," Ryosuke said, "but I have a good simulation of what to expect when he's behind the wheel of that Mustang."

"Uh huh," Sung said. Simulations, he'd almost forgotten how fond Ryosuke was of simulations and computers. Something else that nobody he'd found in America did, but then again he couldn't think of any others who did it in Japan either.

"He has an interesting quality," Ryosuke continued.

"Oh?" Sung asked, and glanced over at his friend with an arched eyebrow.

"He reminds me a lot of Takumi when I first encountered him, a very high degree of innate skill. He does things instinctively that other drivers have to train for years to master, still a little rough around the edges, but he's learned on such a large car that you'd almost have to expect it," He paused. "He could be very good with the right kind of training."

Sung glanced at his passenger again quickly, but it was impossible to miss the slight smile, and twinkle in his eye. He had an idea, a mission, the last time Sung saw that look the Red Suns were formed a few weeks later. Probably would have seen it if he had been in Japan when Ryosuke had the idea for Project D too.

"So you going to volunteer to train him, take Bud along with you as Project D makes its way across the United States?"

Ryosuke sighed, and the twinkle left his eye. In the background the song _Getaway _by the Rossington Collins Band began to play over the radio.

"No," He finally said. "It wouldn't be practical, also Matsumoto and Tomiguchi have never worked on an American cars, it would detract from the overall effort of Project D."

They were all valid reasons, but nothing like that had ever stopped Ryosuke as long as Sung had known him. The only thing that would have stopped him in the past was if Bud had said no, now, for some reason Ryosuke had resigned himself to not even asking the question, this wasn't like Ryosuke.

"Alright, what's going on with you?" Sung asked not sure that Ryosuke would give him an answer.

In the passenger seat, Ryosuke Takahashi, the leader of Project D let out another sigh, but said nothing. He looked out the window, across the open field to the far side where a stand of trees grew, the closer scenery passed by more quickly. There was nothing particularly interesting about the trees but it was something to focus his eyes on as he collected his thoughts.

_I've got to get away, _

_I've got to getaway_

_From the madness inside._

The song continued in the background, the deep feminine voice and guitar filling Ryosuke's ears. Sung was about to ask again when Ryosuke started.

"I'm running out of time," He admitted, reaching for his pack of cigarettes. Sung noticed the subtle change in his friends demeanor. "I knew I was always living on borrowed time, and that eventually my father will come to me and say I have to go to the clinic to take it over, but the more I try to distance myself from racing the harder it becomes. I don't want to stop."

Sung didn't know what to say. As long as he had known Ryosuke this was something that he didn't talk about. It was inevitable, he was expected to take over for his father, until now there had never been any point in talking about it. Ryosuke had been resigned to his family duty. Sung's mind whirled, trying to think of something to say.

"When did you finally figure this out?" He finally asked knowing it was a weak excuse for a question.

"I've been thinking about it for a long time," Ryosuke said, and exhaled smoke. "It wasn't until getting here to America that I really started to think about it though, all we're doing here is racing, practicing and honing skills. There aren't the constant reminders about what I'm expected to do. I don't see my father every night, asking questions about when I'll start."

"What about this Mike guy?"

"Keisuke talked to you didn't he?" Ryosuke smiled a little bit. "Keisuke doesn't like him. I'm sure you could tell that though. Well, he asked me what I wanted to do. He doesn't know all the details, but he knew there is something stopping me from racing, or at least there had been, he made me think about my future differently than before, but he also doesn't understand the reality of my situation."

"So what do you want to do?" Sung asked.

"What I want and what I need to do are two different things," He paused. "What I'm going to do is race for the remainder of our time here in America, and then we'll see what happens."

Again, Sung didn't respond right away, he had known Ryosuke long enough to tell that he was dodging the question. "What do you _want _to do?"

"I want to stay in the racing world, maybe not as a driver, maybe a team manager like I've done for the past couple of years," He shrugged and flicked his cigarette butt out the window. "But you and I both know that will never happen, if I refuse to work at the clinic I will forfeit my right to family money, which means I wouldn't have the money to fund a good race operation."

"Hmm," Sung said, knowing his friend had worked out all of the possibilities already.

"The other day I actually started thinking about long term plans for Project D," Ryosuke said, and almost laughed a little. "I'm not sure whether Keisuke or Fumihiro should take over the lead of the team."

_You made that plan for you. Don't try and fool me Ryosuke _Sung thought.

"What if there was a way?" He asked instead. "What if you could keep racing, would you?"

"Of course," Ryosuke said. "But it's not a possibility. I won't be able to make enough money to fund it on my own."

"Alright, well what are your long term plans for Project D?"

"I'm still working on them, so I'm not sure yet. But do you think any Americans would come to Japan and race on the touge?"

•••

"It was such a good idea to come to the lake today," Mallory said as she lay down next to Bud on the beach blanket. "It really cools you off."

"Yeah," Bud said, trying to keep himself from starring at Mallory in her bikini. It was tough. "It's been really hot lately."

"Don't forget to thank your Dad for letting us take his truck today. I won't let anybody in my car after they've been swimming."

"Why?" Bud asked, steeling another up and down glance as Mallory pulled her wet hair back in a ponytail. She really was beautiful, the perfect curves of her body, her smile, her gray doe eyes. Bud for once found himself glad the nobody paid attention to her at school, if any other guys had ever really seen her, he wouldn't have stood a chance.

"Because I gotta keep those seats in good shape. They're tough to find, and when you do they're expensive," She smiled at him, trying not to laugh. She had caught him looking, trying to keep it a secret, but she didn't mind, it was nice to finally have someone who paid attention to her instead of looking right past her like most people at school would have.

"Oh I guess that makes sense," Bud said, he had never really given it a second thought in his car, but his wasn't exactly the best beach going car.

"So," Mallory said, inching a little closer to Bud. "Have you ever thought of having kids?"

If he hadn't already been sitting down, Bud would have fallen over. As it was his mouth fell open and it took him a couple of seconds to come up with an answer.

"I've never really thought about it," Bud said as thoughts ricocheted around in his head. He liked Mallory, sure but this had never even crossed his mind, on top of it, he felt like he had to give the right answer or he was going to make her mad. Did she even really want kids?

"Well you've got to have some idea," Mallory said and smiled at the obviously rattled Bud.

"Um," He stalled. "I guess I kind of want a big family. It kinda sucks being an only child."

"Well, how big were you thinking?" Mallory pushed, the flecks of gold in here gray eyes sparkling.

"Um," Bud stammered again. "Four?"

"Four?" Mallory asked, like she was trying to make sure she had heard right.

"Yeah, four," Bud said, more certain the second time around.

"Four?" Mallory said contemplating. "It's a nice round number. I suppose four would work. What would you name them?"

"I don't know," Bud said. Until five minutes ago having kids was something he had only ever thought about as something that would happen _eventually_, and now she was asking for names? But it was nice at least to know that Mallory was thinking about their relationship long term too. Before she could press the issue further Mallory's cell phone began to ring. She reached into Bud's shoe where she had kept it while they went swimming.

"Oh, it's Chris," She said, excited but a little confused. "Hi?"

"Hi Mallory," Chris said on the other end.

"What's up Chris?"

"I was wondering what you and Bud were up to tonight?" He asked.

"We don't have any plans," She shot Bud a confused look. "Why?"

"Well with all this talk of the Mopar Moonrunners sniffing around I thought it would be a good idea for us to get together and tune our cars up. I thought at my place around seven?"

"Ugh, I can't go. My Grandmothers birthday party is tonight, but I'll tell Bud."

"Thanks, feel free to drop by afterwards, I'm sure we'll be there late," Chris offered.

"Alright, bye Chris," Mallory smiled.

"Later," Chris said, and hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" Bud asked.

"Chris was wondering if we wanted to stop by his house to tune up our cars tonight, he made it sound like the Moonrunners are going to challenge us as a team."

"But Chris doesn't really go for teams," Bud said.

"I know," Mallory shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't like the idea of any of the Moonrunners beating us."

"Maybe, do you think you're going to be able to make it over there tonight? Oh and you're going to have to show me how to get there, I've never been to his house."

"Alright, we'd better get going then," Mallory said and the two gathered up their stuff and headed for the old F-150 that belonged to Bud's Dad.

Bud pulled into the driveway that lead up to Chris' house. The house wasn't visible from the street set back from the road in a stand of trees, mostly pine. The foliage made it darker in the area, and the scent of resin was heavy in the air. After a few hundred yards the narrow gravel driveway opened up in a good sized clearing sat a house, lawn, and a barn straight ahead with four or five cars parked near the open door. Up on the lift was Chris' black Corvette. From inside faces turned in his direction, and Bud felt a little nervous about being here. His stomach continued to do back flips as he approached the open door, waiting inside were Matt, Grizz, Scott, Ty, and Chris.

"We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Ty said waving hello.

"No, Bud just likes to make an entrance, fashionably late that's all," Matt said in his very excited manner.

"I just had a little trouble finding the place again," Bud answered, more than a little embarrassed. "What are doing?"

"What?" Matt roared. "You don't know what Chris is doing? And you call yourself a car guy? You don't deserve to drive that car! Give me those keys!" Matt lunged for Bud.

"Hey, get off," Bud protested.

"Give me those keys! If you don't I'll just have to grab them out of your pocket!"

"Come on. Get off!" Bud protested again, trying to push Matt away. "A little help guys?"

But Grizz and Scott were in no position to help, they stood beneath the Corvette doubled over in laughter, trying to tell Matt to stop when they could get enough air into their lung between outbursts.

"Come on Matt, knock it off you're being stupid," Bud finally shoved him off. "Jeez man, what's your problem. All I did was ask a simple question."

Bud wasn't hurt, or even angry, the whole thing just surprised and confused him.

"How can you call yourself a car guy and you don't know what Chris is doing?" Matt flung his arms open, pointing at Chris, whose face was alight with laughter, even though the Coors bottle hid his lips.

"I've never called myself a car guy," Bud said a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Oh," Matt said stopping in his tracks. "Still you don't deserve to drive that car if you don't know what Matt is doing."

"Well then, what's Chris doing?" Bud asked again. "I really don't know a lot about working on cars, or the mechanical end of things."

"Well then, we'll just have to teach you," Chris said. "Right now, I'm changing the oil."

"Oh, ok," Bud said. "Why?"

Matt let out a disgruntled sound, and Scott gave him a punch in the arm to try and keep him under control.

"Because after awhile the oil starts to break down, and in the process of lubricating the engine it picks up dirt and crud. The filter gets a lot of that stuff out, but not all of it. Clean, fresh oil helps the motor perform at its best. After I finish this we'll get your car in here and give it a good look."

"Alright," Bud said.

Bud watched as Chris continued with the oil change on his car, he chatted with the others too, trying to make sure that he didn't say anything that would send Matt flying off the handle. His best friend's reaction however showed Bud how much he had to learn about the mechanical parts of the car. It was something he needed to work on, not just so he could take care of his own car, but so he didn't make a fool of himself in front of Mallory. He asked Grizz to show him the major parts under the car, while Chris worked. Before Bud knew what was going on, he was getting his hands dirty under his Mustang.

"Alright, so now we're going to inspect your brakes, so if you need you can get them before Saturday," Chris said, as he lowered one of the tires of Bud's car to the garage floor. "Woah."

Chris was surprised by what he saw. Based on what Ty had told him he had expected to see some vintage stuff, but starring him in the face was a shiny new aftermarket brake rotor and two piston aluminum caliper. Looking further Chris spotted other subtle modifications, like aftermarket coil springs, struts, and polyurethane bushings.

"What?" Bud asked.

"I thought you said this was mostly vintage," Chris said turning to Ty.

"I thought it was, but I didn't get to see it with a wheel off either," Ty said moving closer to take a look. "Wow."

"What?" Bud asked again.

"Your brakes and suspension are heavily modified," Chris said. _ This car can do even better than I thought. _"Wow, your pads still have plenty of meat on them," Chris said, before explaining how disc brakes worked.

"Oh, so it's the same thing on the back too?" Bud asked.

"Sometimes," Chris said. "On my car yes, but to get the biggest brakes on the back of the Mustang, Shelby used a 9 inch rear end from the biggest Ford Station Wagon. So you ended up with drum brakes on the back."

"Oh, how do those work?" Bud asked.

"Well," Chris said and lowered the wheel and tire to the ground. "Inside the drum you have two shoes, and a series of springs instead of pads. Instead of the pads squeezing a rotor, the shoes press out against the inside of the drum to create friction to slow the car down. Huh?" Chris looked at the backing plate, and saw what looked like an air scoop. He had seen an arrangement like that once or twice before on hot rods but never on a Mustang. It was kind of sneaky, nobody would ever notice this hiding under a Mustang.

Chris pulled the drum off, it came off far easier then he was used to. "Or you could have four wheel disc brakes hidden behind drums," He said, looking at the caliper and rotor that had been hidden by the drum.

_It shows that this kids Dad is an old 'shine runner. I've heard stories about how they used to modify cars to run Moonshine but this is the first time I've ever seen something in person. _Chris thought. _I'm really glad this kids on my side._

"Man, that is some trick stuff," Ty said, leaning in to take a closer look. "You guys are going to kick some Jennings ass this weekend."


	14. Hurry Sundown

Chapter 14 Hurry Sundown

Liam Jennings returned the dipstick to its tube after checking the oil in the 426 Hemi sitting in his white 1970 Dodge Challenger. He marveled at the motor for a moment, the heads and valve covers were very wide, with the spark going right down through the center of the valve covers. Atop it all sat a pair of four barrel carburetors and a massive oval orange air cleaner. Everything about the motor was huge no wonder it had earned the nickname Elephant motor.

"Hey Liam, you ready to go yet? We got some ass to kick up on the Shammel Highway." His cousin Brian called through the open barn doors. "Me an' Critter are just waiting on you."

"Yeah, hold your horses," Liam called back and closed the hood on his Challenger.

Once in the driver's seat he prodded the gas, pushed the clutch to the floor, and with the twist of the wrist the mighty Hemi roared into life. Liam smiled to himself as he grabbed the pistol grip shifter. Outside Brian was standing next to his General Lee Charger. Next to Brian was their friend, and mechanic Critter Jones with his 1968 Plymouth Road Runner, it was bright green and hiding under the matte black hood was a 440 Six Pack. The three Mopar big blocks idled loudly, the Hemi making its own distinct sound against the pair of 440s.

"Alright y'all ready to go?" Liam asked.

"You know we are," Brian said impatiently.

"Well then let's go," Liam said.

Brian responded with a loud rebel yell and slid into his Charger through the window. In seconds all three cars were underway, heading for the Shammel Highway.

•••

Takeshi Nakazato looked at himself in the mirror he didn't look as nervous as he felt. Tonight, he along with the rest of Project D would be issuing the challenge to the best on the Shammel Highway. This was an opportunity to prove himself again, after a victory in Medway he had won a couple of times in Maine but had failed to follow Ryosuke's instructions. He knew that if he continued to let his emotions override what he was instructed to do he might just be demoted, and become a glorified cameraman.

He was ready they practiced in less time on the Shammel Highway then they had in other places, but this was how the rest of the team had done things in Japan. He was ready though, his GT-R was a good match for the course, and there were many places where he would really be able to open it up. The attention the car was getting was phenomenal. Tomiguchi was doing an excellent job; it was always in top form now.

Even though he still felt a little out of place, he was ready to go; he was ready for the challenge. In the driveway the R32 was getting its last minute prep and was just waiting for him.

_I'm ready. _Nakazato thought to himself. _I'm going to win tonight. _

•••

Ty Gibson pulled his Calypso Coral Boss 302 up to the house that Jack and Quentin lived in. Their two cars sat out front, the driveway around them still wet from the fresh wash they had been given. The paint gleamed, the wheels looked awesome, and the small bit of chrome reflected the afternoon light. It was going to be a good night; even if they weren't going to race tonight Chris and Bud were sure to put on a good show as they took on the Mopar MoonRunners. Hopefully they were ready, well of course Chris would be he knew that course like the back of his hand, and he wasn't new to racing. Bud on the other hand, boy was he good, and his car was something else entirely, but he was new, he had never been under the pressure of a race against the MoonRunners.

Jack stepped out of the house, and half turned in the door, calling for Quentin. Ty waved as he stepped out of the Boss. In a couple of minutes Quentin had joined his teammates in the driveway, all three cars running, waiting to go.

"A'ight guys," Ty began. "We're goin' up to Denton to have a good time and hopefully see the MoonRunners get their asses handed to them. Let's have some fun, and try not to cause problems, a'ight Jack."

"Who me?" Jack said, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"Yeah, you. I know you hate them Mopar Mothers, just as much as we do, but keep a lid on it tonight. Chris and Bud have got this under control."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said, waving off the leader of the F/GM RidgeRollers. "I just want a good show."

"Oh you'll get one," Ty said, running his hand over his shaved head.

"Are we gonna stand here and talk all night, or are we gonna get on the road?" Quentin asked.

"I'm ready whenever you guys are," Ty responded. His brown eyes scanned the other two members of the team. "Let's go."

Ty turned and headed back towards his Boss Mustang. Just a few minutes later the F/GM RidgeRollers were rumbling their way towards Denton and the Shammel Highway.

•••

Keisuke Takahashi looked on as Tomiguchi made some last minute adjustments to the motor of the bright yellow and carbon-fiber FD. He flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette, and inhaled deeply. In his mind the course played over in his head, the corners the dips, the noticeable houses and buildings. He exhaled, and then took another drag from his cigarette. Next he turned his attention to his opponent; Ryosuke had said he was to take on Chris, who was nominally the fastest on the Shammel Highway. He drove a Corvette, newer then the one Bill Morrisey had driven against him in Maine, but that didn't really matter. Keisuke knew he would have this race under control. Still he had never had anybody who had realistically challenged him since Project D had started. Sure there had been some very skilled drivers, but once they were actually locked in battle Keisuke knew he was going to come out on top, but maybe just maybe, tonight would be different.

"How's she looking Tomiguchi?" Keisuke asked, and he flicked more ash from the end of his cigarette.

"She's looking good," The mechanic answered as he emerged from under the hood. "You shouldn't have any problem tonight."

"Good," Keisuke smiled, that's what he liked to hear.

"This is going to be a great night!" Kenta said emerging from behind his orange S14. "We're going to show the locals a thing or two."

"Cool it Kenta," Keisuke said with a glower. "We're still not sure if you're going to race tonight. They may not have a fourth driver who feels up to the challenge.

"I know, but I meant Project D," Kenta paused. "But William always said there were four really fast locals."

"He did," Keisuke admitted, a little agitated. "But this kid in the Mustang just knocked one of them off. He may not come out tonight because of his loss."

"Or, he could be looking for another fight to prove he's still good." Kenta persisted.

"Maybe," Keisuke sighed.

•••

Jason Agulnick had no intentions of sitting this Saturday night out. Sure, last week's loss would make him a target tonight, but so would the kid's victory. The top challengers were sure to go after Bud, if Chris didn't get to him first. That would leave the second stringers to come after him. The loss would make them think that they actually stood a shot against Jason, when really the only local who did was Mallory.

Nervous butterflies began to flutter in his stomach; the last thought had triggered them. It was one thing to lose to Bud, but losing to two High School kids on consecutive weekends would be devastating If that happened he would have to start issuing challenges and winning right away to avoid losing all of his credibility.

The little Ferrari Red Fiat gleamed in the drive way, black fender flares shining above the aftermarket alloy wheels. It was almost the perfect weapon for the Shammel Highway, it just didn't have the power. Chris' Corvette was always able to out power him even with the Evo motor. The problem was that it was tough to add more power, there was barely enough room for the motor as it was, let alone a bigger turbo, or freer breathing exhaust. It was a good car, and it had very good balance, very few people could keep up with it when he was behind the wheel.

Jason climbed in and looked over the blue faced factory gauges, the aftermarket boost gauges and a couple of others he had added on. With the twist of the key the 4G63 Mitsubishi motor fired right up, with the slight whistle of the turbocharger. After only a couple of moments of waiting he set off for Yates Road in his mid engine hot rod

•••

_Long Straight,_

_Downhill Fast right._

_Long straight, fast left._

_Long straight_

_Uphill, fast left._

_Medium straight,_

_Finish line._

Takumi Fujiwara could almost feel the double thump of the bridge expansion joints as he opened his eyes. Sitting on the bed in his borrowed room Takumi had just finished the Shammel Highway for the third time in the past hour and he didn't feel any better about it. Sure he knew the course like the back of his hand, knew where it went to three lanes which would make it easier to pass if he was behind, and where it went back to two lanes. He knew where the crown of the road would make it easier to hold drifts, and the places where it would cause him to slide off of into a field. He knew everything he could possibly hope to know about the course, but still he didn't feel sure of victory.

The course was tough the first part was slower and more technical, where he would have some sort of an advantage, but the second part. It was much faster, longer straight aways, faster sweeping turns, with something tougher thrown in every so often just to keep you on your toes. This he knew was where he would be at his greatest disadvantage, where the power of the American cars would take over the battle. Keisuke and Nakazato didn't have to worry about it as much they each had close to 400 horsepower, enough to keep up with, or outrun many of the cars they had faced so far.

Since driving Molly's Tiger Takumi had gained a little appreciation for his opponent's cars. At home he had never had access to anything like what his opponents drove. Here though, where so many cars had similar motors, especially the one that he would most likely be facing that night. His opponent and the second part of the course was what worried him the most. No matter how hard he tried his opponent might just be able to run away and hide in the second part of the course. Something would have to be done about getting more power out of the 86, but for now there was nothing he could do.

Takumi sighed and pulled on his shoes.

•••

"Hey!" Bud cried as he jumped out of the way of a jet of water. Mallory stood there in her bikini top and board shorts holding the hose nozzle in an en garde position, a devilish smile on her face.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," She said and her grin broke into laughter.

"I'm sure," Bud managed to get out before he started to laugh as well. She shot another jet of water just to the left of his head.

"Boy, don't these cars look good," Mallory said placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah they do," Bud looked at the pair of freshly washed Mustangs gleaming in the afternoon sun, their distorted reflections shining in the wet pavement reflecting light and making them look all the more impressive.

"Your car is going to look really good going down the Shammel tonight."

"What about yours?" Bud asked.

"Nah, I don't think I'll be racing tonight,'' Mallory answered. "It sounds like the MoonRunners only want to tangle with you and Chris tonight."

"Who are these guys anyways, I keep hearing about them?" Bud asked.

"Well they've been competing with Ty and the F/GM RidgeRollers down in Monroe for a while. I don't really know them that well," Mallory shrugged. "I've never been down there, just heard about them from people like Ty. Sound like they're pretty good, they've been going back and forth down there for a while."

"Too bad, it would have been cool for us to race tonight," Bud said.

"We'll see what happens," She smile and gave Bud a kiss on the cheek. "Come on let's get some food, you got a big night."

And Bud felt the first pangs of nervousness set in.

•••

_Am I going to race tonight? _Ryosuke Takahashi thought to himself as he sat in his FC waiting for it to warm up. He was ready too. He'd driven the course and even assessed Bud's talent, and that kid was good. Yet Ryosuke sat in the bucket seat of his car unsure of how the night would unfold for him. There were a number of things to take into consideration. First and foremost there may not be five people to challenge, even though Sung had made it pretty clear that if he wanted to race that wouldn't be a problem. Or it could be that there may not be enough quality talent. This whole thing was still about Takumi and Keisuke, they would have to face the best talent or the whole thing would be pointless.

It would be equally as pointless for Ryosuke to race against subpar talent, he wouldn't gain anything from it, so there would be no point to him facing a second rate challenge. The only way he would race would be if there were enough serious challengers to go around, a fact that Ryosuke doubted.

Ryosuke sighed. He wanted to race, but it didn't seem like tonight would be the night. He would just have to wait until next time. Ryosuke's heart sank, yet outwardly his expression didn't change. The rearview mirror of the FC showed the rest of Project D ready to go behind him. He slotted the shifter into first gear and pulled away, the rest of the team following dutifully.

•••

Chris Duntov was always among the first to arrive at the field on Yates Road, it was one of the perks of owning your own business. He had arrived almost two hours ago, and for a while he sat alone in his black Corvette. The weather was perfect, sure, some would say it had been hot during the day, but that only ensured that it would still be warm enough at night to be good for racing.

Sung had been next to show up in his Big Bad Blue AMX, but it wasn't long before a steady stream of high performance cars were making their way into the field, and jockeying for parking spots. Bud and Mallory showed up just before Grizz, Scott and Matt, and it wasn't much longer before the F/GM RidgeRollers showed up, their team sticker complete with lightning bolts emblazoned between the F and G.

Even before the MoonRunners arrived Chris could feel the energy in the air. It was unmistakable, tense, expectant, and electric. As he looked around the field Chris could see the usual suspects, but there seemed to be many who he had never seen before. It was more crowded than usual, cars came in with more than just a driver and passenger, stuffed, and in the case of one old, but good looking station wagon, beyond the legal limit. Something big was going to happen and everybody knew it.

"Hey guys," Chris said as Bud, Mallory and their friends walked over followed closely by Ty, and the other two members of the RidgeRollers.

"Sup man," Ty said. "Have those Mopar mothers made they're challenge yet?"

"Nope, but they're here," Chris said nodding in the direction of the three Mopars, hoods open, their owners apparently off checking out other cars.

"I'm sure it won't be too much longer," Chris said looking to the West, where the sky was just beginning to change color.

"You guys grind them into the dust," Jack Gavin said, only barely concealing his animosity while he patted Bud on the shoulders a couple of times.

"Bud and Chris will show those guys a thing or two!" Matt launched into one of his excited tirades. "They're the fastest out here on the Shammel Highway. Nobody is going to knock them off. Anybody who thinks they can take you guys has another thing coming."

"And what about you?" A voice called from not too far away. "Could you teach anybody here something?"

Matt froze, his excitement turned to embarrassment.

"No, I'm just starting to learn the Shammel Highway," He admitted quietly.

"Alright then, we won't waste our time with you," the other man paused and looked quickly around the group. "I'm Bo Jennings, of the Mopar MoonRunners."

Murmurs ran through the crowd. Even though this was what everybody had come to see, and were expecting there was still that moment of surprise.

"We're from Monroe, and unlike the RidgeRollers, we don't lose," Bo paused, looking directly at Ty, and his teammates. "We've come here to challenge. . ."

Bo Jennings broke off at the sound of more high performance cars on the move, not the deep V8 rumble that was most commonly heard around Denton, but the buzzing sound of small displacement motors, foreign motors. Along with almost everybody else in the field Bo turned towards the entrance in time to see a handful of Japanese cars enter the field followed by two Ford vans. The three lead cars all wore carbon-fiber hoods, and the pair of RX-7s had wings. Before Bud could continue his challenge a man hopped out of one of the vans and jogged around to the front.

"I'm Hiroshi Fumihiro, of Project D," He began as the rest of the team began to climb out of their cars. "And we're here to challenge the fastest drivers on the Shammel Highway."

"Who the fuck does he think he is!" Bo roared turning around to face his cousin Liam.

"Brian," Liam said softly. "He told us who he is."

"You're too late jerk!" Bo shot back. "We've just challenged them so you've just got to wait until we're the fastest here."

"I don't know about that," Sung said, quietly but just loud enough so Bo would be able to hear him.

"What?" He said incredulously.

"You never issued the challenge," Sung said simply.

"Yeah, all we know is who you are and that you're from Monroe," Mallory said stepping forward. "At least we know what Project D is here for and who they're looking for."

"Fine!" Bo said. "We're the Mopar MoonRunners and we're here to challenge the fastest on the Shammel Highway." He said, mocking Fumihiro the whole time.

It was very quiet for a few seconds as if people were afraid to speak because it might upset the night and the epic event that promised to follow.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" Matt gasped through clenched teeth.

"What wrong with you?" Bud asked quietly.

"This is so cool," Matt said and grabbed Bud around the shoulders.

"You're the Rotary Brothers," Chris said as he looked over Project D. "You're from Japan."

"Yes we are," Ryosuke said. "How have you heard of us?"

"I was stationed with the U.S. Navy. I remember seeing you guys in magazines and hearing your names all over the area where I was." Chris turned to Sung. "You didn't tell me your friends were the Rotary Brothers."

Sung shrugged, "You didn't ask."

"I'm flattered you remember us," Ryosuke said.

"Are we gonna race or what?" Keisuke scoffed.

"Well you're not racing until we've gone through the locals first," Bo Jennings piped in.

"Shut up Bo!" Jack Gavin called, "Be a good host and let them race. Didn't you're mom teach you about being a good host."

Laughter erupted throughout the crowd, and Bo's face began to turn red.

"So what are we going to do then?" Chris asked. "We've got two teams challenging the fastest on the Shammel Highway, but nobody mentioned who they really want to race. So what are we going to do?"

"A tournament," Matt said. "Like the NCAA basketball tournament."

"Seriously?" Bo asked as the crowd began to murmur expectantly. "How many people?"

"Well we don't want it to take too long," Chris paused. "How about 16?"

"Sixteen?" Bo almost asked again, as the crowd got louder as they realized the implications of 16 drivers.

"Hey," Ty said pulling Jack and Quentin close in a team huddle. "You guys want in?"

"Hells yes!" Jack said. "Let's kick some Mopar ass!"

"We want in!" Ty called loud enough for everybody to hear.

"Me too!" Jason called.

"We want in!" Grizz called.

"Project D's in!" Fumihiro yelled.

"Us too, us too!" Bo called realizing what was going on.

"Looks like you've got another problem on your hands now," Sung said with a smile.

"Yeah," Chris paused. "So it looks like more than 16 people want in on this." Agreements were echoed from all over the crowd.

"I got a notebook in my car!" Matt yelled and sprinted for his Camaro.

"Who's got a hat?" Chris called, and he started to get excited, he smiled, almost uncontrollably this was going to be fun, not only would the MoonRunners be in the mix, but also Project D, and the Takahashi brothers.

"Thanks Matt," Chris said taking the notebook. "Everybody who wants to put their name in line up in front of me. Here's how this is going to work. We're going to make a bracket, seeds 1 through 8 on each side. The seeds will be determined by the order the names are drawn, the first two names drawn will be the top seeds on either side, and we'll go down the line from there."

Paper began to tear; names were scribbled on the small ragged squares and stuffed into an old baseball hat. Those who weren't putting their names forward began to talk excitedly, running through the countless possible matchups and the ones they thought would be the best to watch.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Chris called over the crowd, becoming the MC. "Your number 1 drivers. Sung if you please."

Sung drew one folded scrap of paper, and then another.

"You're first number one seed, and local boy Bud Moody," People began to congratulate him, Mallory smiled and gave him a hug. "Your other number one, Takumi Fujiwara."

The members of Project D looked and congratulated Takumi. They had all entered, Ryosuke, Keisuke, Kenta, Takumi and Nakazato. But even though they knew as a team Project D would have the best chance getting at least one member into the tournament, there was also the outside that none of them would have their names drawn. Ryosuke waited tensely. Somewhere in that old baseball hat was a piece of paper with his name neatly printed on it. He had just as much chance of being pulled out as anybody else, and that was just it, chance, just like he had done in Maine. He wanted to race, desperately but in Maine, he had left it to chance, here he had no choice, and as much as he wanted to race, it was beyond his control. His name could easily be one of those left in that hat, destined to watch this impromptu street racing tournament from the sidelines.

"Alright, facing Bud in the first round is," Chris paused. "Quentin Reese of the F/GM RidgeRollers., and facing Mr. Fujiwara, Jason Agulnick."

"Let's keep it moving!" Bo Jennings called out

"Your number threes," Chris looked at the first piece of paper, then fixed his gaze on Bo. "Bo Jennings of the Mopar MoonRunners and . . .Mallory Iskendarian."

"Facing Bo Jennings, is Kenta Nakamura of Project D, and facing Mallory. . .Scott Karsberg of the Shammel Highwaymen."

Mallory looked across the crowd and caught Scott's gaze, _'Sorry' _she mouthed, and Scott shrugged knowing he would have another chance to prove himself but wasn't likely to get past the first round.

"Number fours," Chris said, losing some of the ceremony. "Myself, Chris Duntov and . . . Ryosuke Takahashi of Project D."

Both men would have been surprised at how similar their reactions were, but for different reasons. Chris was grateful that he would be involved, nobody, would ever be able to claim to be the fastest on the Shammel Highway without beating him, or at least the person who beat him. It would be nice to know that he would at least have the opportunity to compete for the title of King of the Shammel Highway.

Ryosuke on the other hand was glad just too finally know he would be competing again. There was no going back, his name had been called, and so far he was only the third member of Project D who would be competing. Keisuke and Nakazato could still be called, but the odds were against them.

"Grizz Grave will be facing me, and Tyrone Gibson will race Ryosuke Takahashi."

Ryosuke looked around the crowd for his opponent as he recalled the information Sung had given him. Tyrone was the leader of the RidgeRollers and he drove a red Boss 302 Mustang. He spotted the person who would most likely be his opponent, a young African-American man, about his own age.

"The last four," Chris called out. "Liam Jennings, and Keisuke Takahashi will face Takeshi Nakazato and Jack Gavin. Good luck to all of the drivers, for all the others, enjoy the show. Driver's see me."

It was only a few minutes before everybody was gathered around. The group mixed a little, but team members stayed fairly close to each other. There was some general sizing up of the drivers as everybody tried to figure out there first round opponents, looking for any clue, any tell for a weakness that could be exploited.

"Alright guys," Chris began. "We've found ourselves in an interesting predicament here, let's see if we can't agree on some ground rules here."

Chris looked around the group, receiving mostly affirmative nods, except for Bo Jennings.

"Who died and made you king?" Bo blurted out.

"Me," Chris said. "I'm the King of the Shammel Highway, if you beat me, next time you can make the rules."

"Cool it Bo," Liam said. "He hasn't even said anything yet."

"Thank you," Chris said and turned back to the larger group. "Does anybody need any practice time?" He looked specifically at Project D, and the MoonRunners, but nobody said a word.

"Alright then, we can't do all the races tonight, we would have the cops down on us in no time. We'll do one side of the bracket tonight, the other side tomorrow. Then we'll swap nights next weekend. The final two drivers from each side will face the person in the opposite bracket. The top two will be first and second, depending on what seed they are. If we didn't do it this way we could go on forever doing this. Got it?"

"But the seeds weren't determined by skill, only luck," Bo protested.

"Right and if we had all summer we could figure out, but we don't," Chris said. "If you don't like it drop out."

"I'll just have to show you guys a thing or two then," Bo shot back.

"Sounds good to us," Ryosuke said.

"Alright, we also have some big power differences between the cars. In the matchups where there is a big difference the less powerful car will get a headstart."

"Couldn't we just do a cat and mouse race?" Kenta said

"What kind of gay shit is that?" Jack scoffed under his breath, eliciting a scowl from the youngest member of Project D.

"We don't have time to do this position swap if the first round doesn't decide the winner," Chris said. "We'll figure it based on horsepower, like they do in drag racing."

Most of the drivers nodded before Chris continued.

"Any sort of intentional contact will get you disqualified since this is a tournament we need to make sure that there are at least some rules," Again Chris took an extra second to fix his gaze on Bo Jennings. "Sound good?"

"Sure," Ty said. "We can deal with that."

"Us too," Grizz said.

"Sounds good to us," Ryosuke said.

"Yeah, alright," Bo said.

"Ok then, why don't we pull our cars over here so the people can see all of the competitors," Chris said and the drivers went to move their cars.


	15. Down South Jukin'

Chapter 15 Down South Jukin'

"Who the fuck are those rich pricks?" Jack Gavin asked, looking down the row of assembled cars.

"You heard what Chris said," Quentin Reese said. "They're Project D from Japan."

"Yeah, well what the hell are they doing here? Betcha daddy's paying for this whole thing," Jack scowled, turning away from them before he could get even more aggravated.

"Oh come on," Quentin said. "That kid with the white hatchback doesn't look like a rich kid. And what about the two guys with Nissans?"

"Alright so those kids are normal, but the others, spikey hair, and Mr. khakis, man they just look like kids who got whatever they wanted."

"Jack, cool it," Ty said. "You ain't even talked to them yet. Remember don't judge a book by its cover."

"You've seen kids like that before. They come out here from a place like Charlotte, or Lexington and they got no skill but all the horsepower Daddy can buy and that's how they race, walk in here like they own the place but they ain't got the balls to take a corner hard."

"Give me a brake Jack. They didn't walk in here like they owned the place," Ty said.

"Yeah, give them a chance," Quentin seconded. "You might get along with them."

"Ahhh!" Jack gave up. "How's your Trans Am running?"

"Man, you know how good it runs," Quentin said looking at his midnight blue Trans Am, a firebird emblazoned on the hood in white silver and different shades of blue.

"The real question is whether I can take out Bud or not. That kid is really good," Quentin admitted.

"There's no shame in losing to someone who had skills like that kid," Ty offered. He knew that after riding with Bud that there wasn't a good chance that Quentin could win, but that was just the luck of the draw, wasn't it.

"Yeah, you're right," Quentin said, shaking his head a little. "I don't like losing, but sometimes you can't help," He paused. "All I can do is try my best."

"Oh, knock it off," Jack growled. "If you keep talking like that you might as well give up and forfeit the race."

"Cool it Jack," Quentin said, looking at his friend. He often found himself trying to keep Jack from blowing up but it was usually directed at someone else.

"Come on," Jack protested gruffly. "Thats why you run the race, you never know what's going to happen!"

"Alright Jack, you're right," Quentin conceded, placing a calming hand on his friends shoulder.

"Now, get your head in the game and kick some ass!" Jack starred into Quentin's brown eyes with a frightening intensity. "I like the kid, but I'd rather see you win brother."

"Alright," Quentin said, holding the stare. "I'll do my best."

Jack gave him a little shove. "RidgeRollers!"

Quentin shoved back, "RidgeRollers!"

Even if Jack could get a little carried away sometimes he had a knack for getting people going. The energy infected Quentin he could feel it running through him. He was ready for the race, and even if Bud did beat him, Quentin knew he would have the best seat in the house.

"So have you figured out who you're racing in the first round?" Keisuke asked Kenta.

"Yeah," Kenta said, excited. "The loudmouth guy from the MoonRunners."

"Have you looked at his car," Keisuke asked, brushing a lock of blonde hair from his eyes.

"No, not yet," Kenta said, looking over to where the bright Orange Charger sat.

"Well come on then," Keisuke said with a little contempt.

"Alright," Kenta said and hurried to catch up. "This car is huge," Kenta said in Japanese. "I can't imagine that this thing is a performance car."

"It is big," Keisuke said as he looked over the classic muscle car styling of the Charger.

"There's no way this guy can corner with my S14."

"Right, but look at that motor," Keisuke said pointing to the massive 440 cubic inch V8. "He has a huge horsepower advantage over you, and this course is suited to this car."

"Thinking about trading in your cracker box for a real car?" Bo Jennings said as he leaned casually against his car.

"No, just checking it out," Keisuke said coolly.

"Are either of you the guy who gets to lose to me?" Bo said with a cocky attitude.

"What makes you so sure that I'm going to lose to you?" The younger member of Project D erupted.

Bo Jennings stood up straight. "Because I ain't ever lost to a little Japanese cracker box."

"Brian! Knock it off," Liam yelled. He only ever used his cousin's first name when he needed to be brought back in line.

"It's true," Bo shot back.

"There's a reason we run the race," Liam countered. "It could turn out differently this time."

"I doubt it," Bo scoffed.

"I'd like to be the first to beat you then," Kenta glowered at his opponent.

"We'll see tonight," Bo said in return. "You might even figure out the value of a whole motor."

Kenta glowered back for a handful of seconds, his anger bubbling inside of him, fist clenched and trembling. Finally just as he thought he would explode Kenta turned on his heels and headed back to Project D's cars, his mission to scope out the other cars totally forgotten.

"Arrogant bastard," Kenta grumbled under his breathe.

"You'll just have to knock him down a peg or two," Keisuke answered.

Chris stood behind his Corvette, and watched the scene unfold, at least Liam had a calmer head on his shoulders then his cousin. It wouldn't be any good if the Jennings got into a fight with Project D, they would probably withdraw from the races and when the returned to Japan they would have a story of how they were attacked by bunch Rednecks. As soon as Chris had arrived in Japan with the Navy he had heard stories of the great Ryosuke Takahashi and his team the Akagi Red Suns, and then Project D. It was months before the Navy finally got his Corvette to Japan, they were probably some of the most agonizing times in his life, increasingly worrying if he was going to get a call telling him the freighter that his car was on had sunk. Just seeing it again when it was unloaded made him extremely happy. The one regret that Chris had from his time in Japan was that he had never crossed paths with either the Red Suns, or Project D, had never even been able to see them race because he was stationed just to far away.

Somehow, they were here, in Denton North Carolina of all places, and now he had a chance to not only watch them, but to race against them too.

"So who are your picks for the first race?" Chris asked Sung.

Sung shrugged.

"Don't give me that, you have a pretty good idea, so out with it."

"Alright," Sung said reluctantly. "Bud, Bo, You and Liam."

"You don't seem so sure about that last one," Chris said.

"Well," Sung paused. "The GT-R is a good machine, but Liam knows the area better. All things considered it should be really close because the Challenger makes more power, but the GT-R has the all-wheel drive to help get its power to the ground. But it's still heavier than the Challenger. We'll just have to see."

"I guess you're right," Chris said. He had seen a few GT-Rs while he was in Japan, but not too many, and he had never had the opportunity to drive one. It would be interesting and probably a very good show.

Nearby the younger group kept together, even though Mallory and Scott tried to stay as far away from each other as possible. Matt, the only one of the group who wouldn't be racing was bouncing around with overflowing excitement, convinced entirely that not only would the locals win, they would dominate. The MoonRunners wouldn't win, not even Ty and the RidgeRollers, let alone those Project D characters. That was the theory according the Matt Hollman.

"What's the big deal," Bud asked momentarily forgetting to try and not make a fool of himself.

"What the big deal! What's the big deal!" Matt exploded, jumping right into Bud's face. "Can you believe this guy? How can you so completely miss why this is such a big deal."

"Come on Matt, just tell me why," Bud said, becoming agitated by how his friend could get at times.

Mallory tried to hide the fact that she was going to burst out laughing at any second. "Look around you!" Matt continued to roar. "The best racers within a hundred miles are all here tonight ready and waiting to go head to head over the Shammel Highway, and we get to see it! You guys get to be in it. Nothing like this is ever going to happen again! This is epic stuff that people will be talking about for years, and we get to prove that Denton drivers rule the Shammel Highway!" The whole time he got more and more excited almost foaming at the mouth. Just for good measure he gave Bud a thump on the head.

"Ow," Bud said. "Why am I even friends with you?"

Mallory burst out laughing unable to contain herself any longer. "You guys are ridiculous," She finally managed to gasp between laughs a broad grin still on her face.

"But Matt's right." She said, when she had finally caught her breath, still smiling. "This may never happen again. This is the type of stuff that we'll tell our kids when they're old enough."

"I don't know," Bud shrugged. "This is only my second week."

Gradually the sun faded into the west, painting the clouds shades of orange and red before moving to the darker shades of night. Slowly the field emptied out as people left to take up positions along the course. Eventually only the eight drivers who would be racing along with a handful of spectators remained at Yates Road.

"Alright Quentin, how much horsepower does your Trans Am have?" Chris asked.

Quentin thought for a second. "I'd say about 300."

"Ok, here's how this is going to go. The car with the lower horsepower gets a head start, half a second for every ten horsepower.

The two drivers nodded their affirmation.

"Alright guys. Five minutes," Chris said.

The handful of minutes seemed to take forever to tick away. Quentin and Bud sat one behind the other. The others who would be racing and the few spectators crowded around the pair waiting almost as anxiously as the drivers for the race to begin. Chris finally stepped out from the side of the road, pointing first to Quentin, who revved his engine, and then Bud who responded the same way. Chris raised his hand in the air, when it came down the Pontiac Super Duty motor roared to life, tires squealing as Quentin catapulted the dark blue Trans Am down the Shammel Highway.

_1 Mississippi_

Bud watched as the blue Trans Am tore away from the starting line.

_2 Mississippi_

He clenchd the wood rimmed steeringwheel tightly, anxious, waiting. Quentin was nearing the first turn.

_3 Mississippi._

Bud revved the Shelby tuned 289 up to 2500 RPM, holding it there to be ready. Quentin was around the first turn.

_4 Mississippi._

Chris' hand dropped and Bud released the clutch. The green and silver Mustang charged ahead in pursuit of Quentin Reese.

Quentin gunned the Pontiac's big motor as he steered it through a long uphill left hander, he could feel the force of gravity increase as the hill got steeper. He pushed on though, continuing the slight uphill climb. He knew who was chasing him, knew better than most how good Bud Moody really was.

Bud pushed on knowing somewhere ahead of him was Quentin in his midnight blue Trans Am. The head start secretly worried Bud, he was afraid that it would give is opponent to much of a lead that he wouldn't be able to overcome. He banged home the shift to third, and with tires howling exploded onto the next straightaway. Up ahead, just briefly there was a red glow, brake lights. Instinctively he pushed the accelerator further towards the floor before the lights disappeared around the next corner. Now he was on the hunt.

A pretty good sized crowd had gathered at Bethany United Methodist Church, among them Ryosuke Takahashi. He had given instructions to Kenta and Nakazato before leaving. Fumihiro and Matsumoto were at the starting line as well, with Tomiguchi at the finish line, and Takumi and Keisuke at Central Davidson High School. They all had stopwatches timing the two competitors all the way. Ryosuke had no doubt who was going to come out on top. Ryosuke had come here himself to see just where Bud's real braking point was. He had to know. Of course he would be able to tell if Bud and Quentin were neck and neck, but that might not happen. Even if that didn't he would have a better idea because this was after all a race.

"Oh man, he's right on me!" Quentin said as the lights from Bud's Mustang illuminated his cockpit. "How'd he catch me so fast?"

The steel guard rail of the Hedrick Mill bridge gleamed as the two cars past. The two cars hurtled down a short hill before climbing the steepest one on the course. They remained pretty close down the next straightaway and angled downhill.

_I've got this. _Bud thought to himself as he followed the blue Pontiac through the sweeping right hand turn. He knew he was still well within the cars limits, even if he didn't know exactly where those limits were.

The crowd stood on their tip-toes, craning to see which car would appear first. They murmured expectantly as the sound of two V8s bellowed above the night sounds of rural North Carolina. Ryosuke watched and said nothing. It didn't matter what position they were in down the straight away, he was sure Bud was going to win, what mattered was the braking point.

"The Trans Am's in the lead!" Someone yelled just after the car appeared on the straight away.

"The Mustangs right on his ass!" Another voice called.

The cars rapidly approached the next turn, the crowd watching, cheering. Ryosuke was silent. At what looked to be the last possible moment Bud moved out from behind the Trans Am. For a pair of seconds they were running door to door, before Quentin had to jump onto the brakes or slide off the road. Bud held on just enough longer, clipping the apex of the turn perfectly as he took over the lead.

"Way to go Bud!" Matt yelled when he heard the report from somebody standing nearby with a two way radio. "He's got this in the bag!"

"Matt, cool it," Scott said jerking his thumb towards Ty and Jack. "They like us, lets try not to piss them off."

"Oh," Matt stopped in his tracks. "I didn't realize."

Not too long after that the two cars thundered by not that far apart. Bud was still in the lead, but no matter how hard Quentin tried he just couldn't get past. It was like the green Mustang always had more to give, and extra reserve of horsepower to tap into whenever It was needed. Within a few minutes the finish line was reporting a win for Bud.

By the end of the second race, the locals had racked up two wins. Kenta just couldn't keep up with the more powerful Charger behind him.

Within a few minutes Chris and Grizz were staged at the starting line. Sitting in his black Corvette Chris had no doubt that he was going to win. Grizz was a good kid, and worked hard, but he just couldn't compete with at the top level on the Shammel Highway. Chris felt almost sorry for the kid. Even though there was no reason to question the inevitability of victory, Chris still followed his prerace warm-up. The song Ram Jam blared from the Corvettes speakers, and Chris sang quietly to himself, modifying the lyrics a little bit.

"Wo-oh black Vetty bam-a-lam, wo-oh black Vettey bam-a-lam." The song always got him psyched up for a race, no matter who his opponent was. The music stopped and Chris looked over at Grizz, who looked shaky, almost sick in the driver's seat of his red Barracuda 340S.

"Good luck," Chris called as the starter stepped out from the shoulder of the road.

"Ready,

"Set. . .

"Go!" The starter shouted and Grizz took off into the night, shifting a little bit too early. Chris waited for his turn to go.

It seemed like an eternity, but there was a hundred horsepower difference between the two cars. It wouldn't matter anyway, Chris could catch him. The starter counted off the last few seconds before waving his hand for Chris to go. The 350 cubic inch LT-1 bellowed as the black car catapulted into the night. Behind the wheel Chris was hard at work, guiding the car through the turns, powering out and working the five speed transmission.

It wasn't long before the two cars were running nose to tail, Chris following closely behind Grizz's Barracuda. He didn't try too hard to pass, Grizz was a good kid, even if he still had a lot to learn behind the wheel, and he wouldn't learn anything if Chris just blew by and ran away. At any second the black Corvette and its driver could dispatch the red Plymouth, but out of respect, and trying to help the young driver learn Chris let him stay in the race, only passing at the last turn before the finish. On Monday Chris knew the halls of Southern Davidson High would be buzzing with news of Bud's victory, and how Grizz Graves almost beat Chris Duntov.

"What's the horsepower on your GT-R?" The starter asked Nakazato.

"Four hundred," Nakazato said proudly.

"Five fifteen," Liam Jennings said. "So that's what, a 6 second head start for you."

"I thought I would give you the head start," Nakazato replied, he still wasn't used to the fact that many cars in America were at least as powerful as his GT-R, and many were even more powerful. "I do have the all-wheel drive system to help me get the power to the ground."

"Funny," Laim said and couldn't help but scoff. "Let's just call it an even race."

"Fine by me," Nakazato said. _You'll regret not taking the head start._

The two cars sat next to each other on Route 47. The White Hemi Challenger quivering with the rumble of the motor. Behind the wheel Liam Jennings was ready to go. The Hemi under the hood made more than the 425 horsepower that Dodge had claimed back in 1970. The guy in the black Nissan thought he was going to have an easy race, but the motor was modified a little bit and the suspension was modified a lot. The super sticky tires would help a whole lot too.

Nakazato waited patiently, the RB26 underhood idling smoothly, waiting to be unleashed. He kept thinking about what Ryosuke had told him, about keeping his calm and keeping his focus. Most importantly, not letting the other driver anger him to the point where he made a mistake. This would be a test. Finally the starter moved out from the crowd, and held his hand in the air.

"Ready. . .

"Set. . .

"Go!"

The cars exploded away from the starting line, pulling neck and neck down the straight away towards the first turn. Nakazato wasn't used to this. In Japan the only cars that could match his acceleration off the line were other GT-Rs, and a handful of very well tuned RX7, and Evos. He almost always had a horsepower advantage, and he could allow the ATTESA-ETS to do all the work off the line, channeling the turbocharged motors power efficiently to all four wheels. What the white Challenger lacked in technology was made up for in brute strength and driver skill, after all, the hole shot and drag races were what most muscle cars were about, it was only a select few who decided to make them warriors on the twisty back roads.

At the top of the RPM range the Hemi bellowed and started to edge ahead of Nakazato and his GT-R. The two cars were door to door as they approached the first corner. The Challenger held the slight lead and continued to inch ahead. Nakazato dabbed the brakes and slipped in behind Liam. _I'll get you, _he thought. _My car's all-wheel drive gives me a huge advantage. _Nakazato settled into a rhythm behind the white Mopar.

The cars followed each other turn after turn, thundering down the straightaways and climbing the hills. Liam did an expert job of keeping the black GT-R behind him. _This guys pretty good, he's sticking with me and I've never heard of that car before. _Liam gritted his teeth and moved to block another attempt to pass by Nakazato.

"Come on!" Nakazato shouted as he had to back off as his attempt to pass was blocked, again. _Gotta keep it cool. If I blow my stack I'm definitely going to lose this race. _He clenched the wheel and banged home the shift to third. _ I'll get him up ahead. _Nakazato thought as they approached Bethany United Methodist Church. The black GT-R moved to the inside to try and take the Challenger under braking, he thought for sure that the old American muscle car would have to brake earlier. He held the accelerator waiting for the first hint that the Mopar to decelerate, waited, all the time getting closer to the turn, to the braking point. Nakazato hopped on the brakes and downshifted, the Challenger knifed in front, sliding a little bit.

"Damn," Nakazato gasped. "He's got good brakes," He wasn't angry, well maybe a little, but he was keeping it under control, and it really was something impressive. The two cars kept at each other, following closely. In the second half of the course , with more room and longer straight away it turned into a drag race, the 426 Hemi breathing deeply and hurtling the white Challenger towards the finish line. Every opportunity, every chance Nakazato tried to exploit Liam would block. As odd a sensation as it was the GT-R just didn't have the breakaway power needed to overtake the Challenger. On top of it, Liam was solid enough with his technique that there wasn't a good enough opportunity to exploit in the more technical section of the course.

The two cars came into the last turn before the finish line. When Liam moved to block the inside line Nakazato took the outside, relying on the advanced all-wheel drive of the GT-R to hold the line. He started to pull on the Challenger, the road started to climb. His nose was even with the rear wheels. The Hemi surged as the road straightened out. The GT-R continued to pull, slowly, but slowly making up space. . .

_Thump-thump._

The two cars passed over the expansion joints of the bridge, the race was over and the Challenger had won, just edging out the GT-R.

"Well done Nakazato," Ryosuke said as he walked over to the black GT-R. "You ran a good race, and kept your cool, and that kept you in the race to the end, allowing you to be in position to make that move at the end."

Nakazato's mouth hung open for a second. He had expected Ryosuke to be angry, to chew him out, but he was commending his efforts instead.

"Thank you," Nakazato finally choked out. "His car is very powerful, I'm not used to that. And he's a very good driver."

"It was a good race, as long as you can keep your emotions under control the wins will start coming."

Bo Jennings let out a loud Rebel yell as he and his cousin high fived in celebration.

"Man I knew we would get those Japanese racers. That little wind up toy just can't compete with real cars!" He was being loud, loud enough for Project D to hear.

"Brian!" Liam growled under his breath. "Did you see how much I won by? That guy was good and that car is a serious machine."

"Oh come on cous' you know as well as I do that none of those cars stood a chance in hell against a car with a real motor. Don't matter how good the guy behind the wheel is."

"What makes you so sure?" Keisuke called.

"Well I beat your boyfriend didn't I?"

"Brian! Knock it off!" Liam said.

Keisuke glowered. "Yeah, you did beat Kenta," He growled. "But I'm a lot better then he is, and my FDs a lot stronger then his car."

"So prove it," Bo called.

"I will if you make it to the last round,"

"Well I'll see you there," Bo said.

"Way to go Bud!" Mallory exclaimed as she jumped into Bud's arm.

"Thanks," Bud said wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry I had to race Quentin he's a nice guy."

"It would have been a lot better if you had beat that Jennings guy. He's such a jerk!" Matt exclaimed getting very agitated. "I don't really know who those Japanese guys think they are, but they deserve to be treated better then that."

"Yeah," Mallory seconded, holding Bud around the waist. "I still want to beat them, but they should still be treated with respect. Just because you don't like their car is no reason to give people a hassle like that."

"Right," Bud nodded.

"Hey, what are you guys so quiet for?" Matt said and he began to poke and prod Grizz and Scott.

"Why do you think?" Grizz grumbled.

"Cheer up Grizz," Mallory said. "You ran a good race, you just had the bad luck of having to face Chris. Nobody's going to beat him. You ran a good race right to the end, we couldn't ask for more."

"Except Bud! I bet Bud could beat him," Matt said and he started jumping up and down.

"Come on Matt. I think you're overrating. I mean maybe I could beat him, but I don't know. Besides, even if we win our next races we'll face the top drivers from the other bracket. Me and Chris won't race each other."

In all the commotion caused by Matt, nobody noticed the small smile that crept onto Grizz's face, sure he had lost, but Mallory was right, he ran a good race and hung right with the King of the Shammel Highway.

_Hi Everybody,_

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and sorry for the delay. Please leave some reviews and let me know how I'm doing._

_Thanks, Margrave._


	16. Just Hang On

Chapter 16 Just Hang On

"Does he always do this?" William asked peering around the corner at Ryosuke who was seated at the dining room table, typing away on his laptop.

"Mhm," Keisuke responded, "He's running simulations."

"Simulations of what?" William asked.

"The races," Keisuke responded, "He develops strategies based on his simulations that we use in battles."

"You mean races?"

"Yeah," Keisuke grunted, "It's scary how accurate he can be sometimes."

"I've never seen anybody do that before," William admitted, "Back when I raced strategy was pretty simple, but then we didn't have computers either."

_Average speed was higher when he was chasing._ Ryosuke thought as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

It was clear to Ryosuke that Chris bad taken it easy, not to hide how fast he was, but because he didn't want to show up his opponent, who clearly was not on the same level. It was admirable to a certain extent, but all the best racers had the killer instinct that made it hard to act compassionately in a competitive situation. As he continued to work logging the data Ryosuke began to formulate his plan. Even though none of Project D's drivers had advanced yet it would still be important so that whoever met two of the previous night's drivers they would know exactly what they needed to do to come out on top.

The more Ryosuke looked at things the more similarities he saw between Bud and Takumi. They were both very similar, massive amounts of natural talent, but Bud like Takumi early on would return to a comfortable zone once he was in the lead. It wasn't because he was reaching the limits of his talent or the technical limits of the car, but because that was how fast he was used to going. It would be interesting to see if he would respond in the same way Takumi used to. Even still he had full confidence that they would come out on top tonight.

Even after the data logging was done, and the last simulation had run Ryosuke sat at the table and continued typing, working on that file he had created a few days before. He knew full well that nobody would disturb him as long as they thought he was working on simulations. It also helped keep his mind off of the nervous pangs that were starting to grip his stomach.

•••

"Aren't you up a little early?" Bud asked with a yawn, "You do have a race tonight."

"I know, I figured I would take a nap at some point this afternoon," Mallory smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

"Oh," Bud said.

The two sat at the table waiting for their breakfast to arrive. It was early, there were only a few other people in the restaurant. It would get crowded after church let out in about a half hour. Mallory was glad that it was just her and Bud, she watched him over the rim of her coffee mug. Since they had been dating, hanging around with Grizz and Scott wasn't _as_ bad. It was pretty clear that they weren't her biggest fans, but at least they didn't make fun of her anymore, well at least not to her face. Having to race Scott tonight though had thrown a monkey wrench into things, it made things awkward because everybody knew who was going to win, and spending so much time hanging around with those guys was tough. Scott hadn't really said a word to her since it was announced that they would be facing each other in the first round. In the past when they had raced there was at least some back and forth trash talk, usually the same old Mustang vs. Camaro crap that had been raging since the 80s or earlier, but now there was just a quiet resentment.

"Hey, earth to Mallory!" Bud said waving his hands in front of her gray and gold flecked eyes.

Mallory jumped spilling a little coffee in the process, "Sorry," she said reaching for a napkin and laughing nervously.

"Usually I'm the one zoning out," Bud said, "What's up Mallory?"

"Nothing," she flashed a smile at Bud, "Just thinking about the race tonight."

"You'll do fine," Bud said with a reassuring squeeze of her hand, "You guys have raced before, and haven't you won?"

"You know I've won every race, I've faced Scott before you space case," she laughed a little bit, and Bud blushed.

"You seem worried though, it's not like Scotts gotten that much better."

"I know," Mallory said, "But I'm just getting to the point where they don't totally hate me, and if I beat him it might kind of screw things up."

"He knows he's going to lose, because he knows he's not fast enough to beat you," Bud said and Mallory was a little startled by how focused Bud was all of the sudden.

"I know but it's different now," she said quietly, looking down at the food that had just arrived.

"Why? Because we're dating? Who cares? Go out there and win, that's what I want you to do."

She looked up slowly at Bud, and smiled. "I will," Mallory said, "You know I will," She added with a wink as she blew Bud a kiss.

After breakfast the pair climbed into Mallory's car and headed back to Bud's house to go over their pre-race checks. Oil, tire pressure, camber angle, everything was just as good as it had been the night before, but it was always good to check, even if your opponent wasn't the toughest. Bud even managed to learn a few more things along the way too. He knew that he still had a long way to go before he knew as much Chris or Mallory, or even Matt, but he was working on it and he was learning more all the time. Once they had finished looking over the cars the pair of High School students walked off into the woods hand in hand. Mallory swung her and Bud's arm back and forth in a wide arc, humming to herself a little.

She was happy, happy to be out in the woods, happy that she was going to race, but mostly happy that she was with Bud. Even though he could be a total space shot and a goof sometimes, he always seemed to know the right thing to say. A quick squeeze of the hand, and Bud squeezed back, reassuring her, he was good at that. It always seemed so corny, so clichéd when she read things in books or saw them on TV or the movies, but when they were together it was like she was floating on air, like there wasn't any thing in the world that could bother her.

Eventually the two stopped for a rest under a tree at the edge of a field. Bud sat down and rested his back against the wide trunk; Mallory rested her head on his chest.

"So," Mallory began a devilish grin on her face, "You never answered my question the other day."

Bud froze instantly, not sure what she was referring to, which only made him worry more.

"What are you talking about?" He finally asked mentally bracing himself for a lecture.

"You know when we were at the beach the other day," she said coyly, "Before Chris called."

Bud quickly searched his memory trying to figure out what she was talking about, to save himself from making her mad. Try as he might he just couldn't think of it, and then he remembered, kids! In a split second he was immediately more uncomfortable then he had been. His pulse quickened, his palms were sweaty and his mouth was dry. There were so many ways he could screw up and he knew it.

"Yeah I did."

"No, you answered one question, when I asked you how many kids you wanted," she smiled at him mischievously. "Do you remember what you said?"

"Yeah," Bud said cautiously, Mallory raised an inquisitive eyebrow, still grinning. "Four."

"Why four?" Mallory asked.

Bud had never really thought about why. "Um, well it's a nice round number," he said knowing it would not stall Mallory for long. The _are you serious_ look on her face told him that it hadn't even worked as long as he had hoped it would.

"I'm not saying I want to have anything other than four. I'm just curious to see if you've really thought about this or if you're just making this up as you go along?"

_Damn!_ Bud thought, _She caught me._

"Well," Bud stalled, "It kind of sucks being an only child. I never had anybody to play with when I was a kid; I would have loved having a brother."

"You can take mine," Mallory joked, "He's a pain."

"I don't want one that bad," Bud said and Mallory laughed.

"Alright then what would you name them?" Mallory asked happily.

Again Bud froze not sure exactly what to say, but there was no way he could come up with four names on the spot, and not have Mallory figure it out. And if she didn't she might hold him to it in the future.

Finally Bud shrugged, "I'd never really thought of it. We should figure it out when we get there."

Mallory smiled at Bud, and then put her head on his chest; the beating of his heart was comforting.

"Bud?" She asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to do after graduation?"

"I don't know," Bud answered, "I mean I'm not exactly cut out for college, I suppose I'll have to find a job. I don't know what I want to do."

"What are we going to do when I graduate?" She asked, "Because I do want to go to college."

"Maybe I'll just have to move to Pennsylvania," Bud answered, "I wonder what they have for racing up there."

Mallory had been worried, that was not what she had been expecting. That question had weighed on her heart for a long time, even if it was a long way off. It was something she felt like she needed to know before too long. She smiled to herself, and squeezed Bud.

"You don't have to do that," she whispered, "Just knowing you'll try to make it work is enough for me."

"We could always get married before you go to college," Bud said a little absentmindedly, though as soon as he finished the sentence Bud snapped back into focus.

"Really?" Mallory tried to sound sly, but it came out funny through the yawn she was fighting.

"Yeah really," Bud said. He was so confused and he knew it was all his fault. He loved Mallory, the girl who drove the black Mustang, the one with the blue tips to her dirty blonde hair. The girl who was holding him tightly around the waist her head resting against his chest, but somehow it was just impossible to tell what this feeling was in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't tell whether it was excitement at the future or the thought of their . . . life together, or if he was afraid of the same thing, afraid that somehow it was a mistake.

"Bud?"

"Yeah Mallory?"

"I love you," she said with a yawn, and Bud knew exactly what he was feeling.

"I love you too," he answered and neither of them said anything for a couple of minutes.

"Mallory?" Bud whispered, she didn't respond, "Mallory?" He said a little louder, but still he got no response.

"I love you," he said again even though Mallory was fast asleep. A few minutes later Bud dozed off as well.

•••

Takumi climbed into the 86, the familiar sound of the silver top 4AG was comforting. Tonight would be his first race in the 86 since Maine, and he was still a little nervous, not sure how the car would perform. He was still acutely aware that no matter how well tuned the motor in the 86 was it just wouldn't be able to match some of the cars he would face in the later rounds. Tonight though he was pretty sure he would win. His opponent Jason had a little red Fiat with a Mitsubishi Evo motor, and even though Takumi knew he still had a long way to go with his mechanical knowledge, he knew that he could expect his opponent to handle well, and probably come close in terms of outright speed. It could be a close match.

The group of cars pulled out of the driveway with William following behind the support van in his Studebaker. The closer they got to Yates Road the more performance cars they spotted in traffic. It was still early, the sun just starting to set, but the field was crowded and it seemed like every eye was on Project D, soon as they slowly made their way through the crowd to where all the competitors were parked. Takumi focused on the wing and taillights of Keisuke's FD, careful the whole time of the spectators who wove themselves between the cars any time they stopped or were moving slow enough not to hit anybody. The crowd seemed bigger than the night before. Finally, mercifully they made it over to where the other competitors were parked, grouped mostly by team.

"Wow," Keisuke said as he walked up to Takumi. "There are a lot of people here tonight."

"Do you think there are more than last night?" Takumi asked.

"Of course," Keisuke answered. "We'd better give them a good show tonight."

"Don't we always? It will be nice to see Ryosuke behind the wheel again."

"Yeah," Keisuke paused. "I just hope he doesn't over do it."

"Do you think he can't handle it anymore?" Takumi asked almost astonished.

"No, I have extreme confidence in my brother, but it's been so long. . . I'm sure he'll win. I just think there is something else going on."

Takumi shrugged, "I think he'll do fine but you know your brother better than I do."

"Hmmm," Keisuke took a drag of his cigarette, "Enough of this, we'd better focus on tonight's races."

"Right," Takumi agreed, "What do you think of my opponent tonight?"

"I think you'll win, but it might be a little more difficult."

"I know," Takumi said.

"But even though that car should be very well balanced he probably won't have the same traction as an Evo. If you keep the pressure up you should be able to capitalize on any mistake that he makes. Honestly I think you cars are evenly matched."

"Yeah," Takumi said, "I'm looking forward to racing in the 86 again."

"Right, this will be your first race after the valve spring job won't it?" Keisuke said waiving a lock of blonde hair from his eyes, "I've been meaning to ask what you thought about that car."

"You mean the Tiger?" Takumi asked in his sort of unfocused voice.

"Yeah," Keisuke said. Normally he wouldn't be so curious about things like that, but it was interesting, and he would have liked to have driven it.

"It was pretty cool," Takumi admitted, the thoughts of the race bringing a smile to his face, "But I don't know if you would have noticed the performance as much. As far as power it's not very different from your FD."

Keisuke didn't know how to respond, the two cars were so different he would have had to have noticed something.

"I still would have liked to try it out," Keisuke finally recovered.

"I bet if you had asked Molly would have let you," Takumi said.

"I wish you had told me that earlier," Keisuke said with a little laugh

"Sorry," Takumi said, "You just seem to like your FD so much that I didn't think you would care."

"How were you supposed to know? Like you said it's not like I said anything." He paused. "Next time I'll just have to ask."

Keisuke looked across the field to where Jack's GTO sat. A couple of years ago he would have thought that the car was too old to be a serious competitor, but now he knew that more depended on the two drivers than anything else, and he was sure that GTO was a better starting point for modifications then the 86 ever was.

Chris Duntov looked over the crowd; it was defiantly bigger than the night before. Some were even saying that people were already camped out along the course, although Chris doubted this because it was still two hours from sunset and the races wouldn't start for at least a couple of hours after that. Even if it was true they were in for a good show. The guys from Project D who would be racing were the aces; Chris knew that if nobody else did. Now all he had to decide was where to watch from.

"Sung," Chris asked, "Where would you watch from?"

Sung simply shrugged in response.

"Don't give me that," Chris joked.

"Bethany Methodist."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Chris concurred, "Would you mind doing the starting tonight?"

"Sure. You want to scope out D?"

"You know it. That was the biggest thing I wanted to do before I returned from Japan, and I never got to see the Red Suns or the Takahashi brothers."

"Alright," Sung said with another shrug.

Jason pulled his Fiat X1/9 up to the starting line and got out. His opponent stood on the shoulder near his car with Sung standing next to him.

"Hey Jason," Sung said as he approached.

"Hey," Jason said trying to sound confident. "How's this going to work?"

"Well Takumi's car has around 260 horsepower, how about yours."

"I have 256. Call it even?"

"Sure, sounds good," Takumi said.

"Alright, I'm ready whenever you are."

"Me too," Takumi said.

The two drivers climbed into their cars. Behind the wheel of his X1/9 Jason was more than a little nervous. He had lost to Bud, which was bad enough now, this kid from Japan was his opponent. Apparently it was pretty close match. It would suck to lose again; he had been second fastest on the Shammel Highway for so long it would be a disgrace to lose two in a row. He wouldn't lose though, not to some old hatchback, no matter how much power they had crammed under the hood.

Takumi prodded the gas pedal a couple of times, the tachometer needle racing around the dial. He was already a little nervous, but at home in the 86 in a way that he hadn't been in Molly's Tiger. Sure he was a little nervous; it was his first race back behind the wheel of the 86. The night was dark, and there was no oncoming traffic.

Sung stepped out of the shadow, pointed in turn to each driver and held his hand in the air. Engines roared and tires squealed as the two cars launched hard. The Fiat's better weight distribution allowed it to nose into a slight lead. Takumi shifted to third, glancing briefly over at the red wedge that was just a little bit ahead.

The two cars approached the first turn flat out, with the banking and the slight angle of the turn. Even though Takumi had the inside line, Jason and his Fiat stayed even on the outside. After the short straight away, where neither car could claim an advantage and the roles were reversed, a dab on the brakes and they dove into the long left hander.

After another short straight and a right hander emerged onto another straight, Takumi held the gas down, the 4AG motor howling as it headed towards 11,000 RPM yet somehow as the road climbed up hill the Fiat started to pull further into the lead. On the uphill grade the turbo Mitsubishi motor had the slight edge, by the time they reached the next turn Takumi slipped in behind his opponent.

As the two cars ran through the next section of the course Takumi began to see the difference in his opponent. It was fast and light and handled very well, a lot like the 86. The combination of straights and fast turns allowed Jason to keep the turbo spooled up, but the power differential wasn't enough to allow him to pull away. The cars weakness was on entering the turns. The mid-engined layout helped with traction and accelerating, and kept it balanced allowing it to corner fast, even if the turbo lagged a little bit on the sharper corners. The weakness Takumi knew was on entering the turns, with so little weight over the front wheels Jason had to brake more to shift the weight over the front wheels for good turn in.

_I've got you! _Takumi thought to himself as he followed the little red Fiat down another straight. In the heat of the battle Takumi had forgotten all of his reservations, all of his questions that had been weighing on him; all of his focus was on the task at hand.

Beating the red Fiat!

The two cars exploded onto the straightaway in front of Bethany United Methodist. The crowds waited expectantly. Takumi focused on the car in front of him, both cars set up on the outside as the approached the next turn, one of the sharpest on the course. Just before Jason started braking Takumi switched to the inside lane waiting the extra second and a half before braking for the turn. With the better response of the Silver top TRD motor Takumi accelerated faster out of the corner, putting some space between him and a stunned Jason.

Once he had the lead Takumi didn't give it up. Jason gritted his teeth and charged ahead, the turbo waste gate hissing and snapping with every shift.

_How did he get past? _Jason thought, _There's no way he can corner with me._

Takumi continued to push, charging hard into every turn taking advantage of the 86's higher entry speed, little by little, the gap grew, until by the time the two cars passed Central Davidson High School Jason couldn't make up the distance.

It didn't matter, but somehow Takumi felt better about this win then almost any other. It was good to win in the 86 again, it was fantastic! Even though he remained calm on the outside he was overjoyed.

"Good race," Matsumoto said, patting Takumi on the back.

"Thanks Matsumoto," Takumi smiled. It had been a good race.

Even as Takumi and Jason were finishing their battle, at the other end of the course Mallory and Scott were getting ready for their race. It was a scene that had played out millions of times since the early 1980s when the Fox body and the third generation Camaro got their first performance packages. Chevrolet had put an emphasis on handling for the Camaro, while Ford kept the weight of the Mustang down and the power up. Most Camaros had second rate V8 engines, and many of the 350 cubic inch powered cars were hampered by automatic transmissions, and a single catalytic converter. The Mustang's light rear end made it difficult for all but the best drivers to keep the rear tires from going up in smoke, but skillful drivers could always get the best out of a Fox Mustang. The biggest advantage Mallory had with her Mustang was that there was excellent aftermarket support for the Fox body Mustang making them cheaper to modify then the Camaro.

It would be an even start, they had agreed to that ahead of time because even though Scott's Camaro had a higher horsepower rating then Mallory's first year GT she and her Dad had modified it well past Scott's car, but his pride wouldn't allow him to have a head start this time. Whenever they had raced in the past it had always been an even start. If he finally managed to beat Mallory when he had a head start nobody would let him say it counted, it just wouldn't be the same.

With the roar of a pair of small block V8s Mallory and Scott took off. The two cars stayed next to each other for a handful of seconds. Mallory's skillful work on the clutch allowing her to minimize wheel spin. Finally though, before the end of the first straight Scott had pulled into the lead and Mallory fell in line behind him.

From the starting line Ryosuke looked on. He could tell by the way the two cars moved that Mallory's Mustang had close to a hundred horsepower advantage, but her opponent had elected for and even start, more importantly, he was in the lead. The window was brief, but the leader of Project D had no doubt who was going to win, it was only a question of when she decided to make her move.

Mallory followed closely behind Scott, not as close as she normally would, because she knew as soon as she wanted to she could pass Scott and his red Camaro and leave them in the dust. She wasn't worried about him getting away; it would be easy enough to catch up. The two cars wove their way along the Shammel Highway. Occasionally Mallory made an attempt to pass, but then backed off, she was going to win, but she didn't want to humiliate Scott. When the road widened to three lanes in front of Central Davidson High she made her move. Using the Mustang's extra horsepower to pull out and cleanly pass Scott. A short while later the two cars crossed the finish line in the same order. Bud greeted Mallory with a hug when the two competitors pulled up to where Grizz, Matt and Bud were parked.

"Good race," Mallory smiled at Scott.

"You too," He answered, grudgingly. He knew she had gone easy on him.

"Yeah, good race, both of you guys!" Matt exclaimed, "We kept hearing the reports and weren't sure who was going to win. Not that it mattered because both of you represented us well!" He was almost jumping again he was so excited, and even though Scott knew that Mallory had taken it easy on him, Matt's enthusiasm was a little contagious and he started to feel good about the whole situation even though he lost.

The attention of the group slowly turned to the next race, but briefly Scott and Mallory's gaze met, she gave him a warm smile, and wink before they both turned their attention to the two way radio nearby that was reporting on the two cars lined up or the next race.

"Ryosuke Takahashi," Ryosuke said holding out his hand for the young African-American man.

"Ty Gibson," Ty said giving Ryosuke's hand a firm shake, "So how we gonna do this?"

"Even start, should be fair. My FC is modified so for me to have a handicapped start would be cheating. I'd rather win a fair contest."

"A'ight with me," Ty said, "Not like my rides stock either."

"Even if it were the advertised horsepower was significantly underrated in 1969," Ryosuke said.

"Thought you said you were from Japan?" Ty said surprised that his opponent would know about how bad manufacturers used to lie about advertised horsepower.

"Good luck," Ryosuke said with a nod.

"You too," Ty answered and the two drivers headed for their cars.

Ryosuke dropped into the bucket seat of his FC and fired up the rotary motor. All of the gauges showed exactly as they should as the motor settled into its idle. The two cars lined up for the start and Ryosuke began to feel the first hint of nervousness. Sure he was Akagi's White Comet, but it had been so long since he had actually raced, that he couldn't overcome his feeling. He doubted himself, just very briefly unsure that he had made the right decision to race, but he knew he had.

It was only a couple of minutes before Sung stepped forward. Seconds later amidst the roar of motors and the squeal of tires the two cars surged forward. Ty took the lead off the start in his Calypso Coral Boss 302 Mustang. Ryosuke easily slipped in behind him and fixed his attention on the back of his opponent's car. All of his reservations were gone in an instant, overcome with the sensory overload of the race. Through the steering wheel, accelerator pedal and his seat Ryosuke could feel the car, every point of contact provided him with information, data that had to be identified, categorized, and acted upon in seconds. He could see the gauges and knew the motor was running right, could see the Boss Mustang in front and knew the driver was very skilled. He saw every turn, and imperfection of the road surface. His ears relayed the sounds of the motor, and the surface, the squeal of the tires. His nosed filled with the smells of the race; the spent high octane fuel, and burning rubber, forever on the lookout for smells that would mean trouble for himself or his competitor, but at the moment all was good.

The two cars snaked their way down the Shammel Highway. Winding through the turns, past the spectators and running well over 100 miles per hour on the long straight sections. As they approached Bethany United Methodist, Ryosuke moved to the inside for the pass. Ty in his Mustang didn't give an inch, both cars decelerated for the turn. Neither driver gave an inch, they cleared the corner at the same time, accelerating hard past the power substation, slowly Ty began to pull ahead again as the more powerful Boss 302 roared.

After thundering through a fast uphill right hander the two cars were still essentially neck and neck as they used the short straight that followed to setup for the banked left hander. Ty gritted his teeth, now the roles were reversed, finding himself on the inside of the turn he knew he would have to break earlier. He waited as long as he could to get on the brakes, but on the outside lane Ryosuke waited just that extra fraction of a second. With a straight line through the corner the white FC sliced in front of the red Boss and took the lead opening a small gap as he accelerated out of the turn.

_You're good. _Ryosuke thought to himself, _And I know where you're going to make your next move._

He led through the next few turns before the long straight approaching Central Davidson High School. The two cars roared down the straightaway. Spectators packed in along the shoulder waiting to catch a glimpse of the competitors. The gap between the two cars began to shrink as Ty began to run down the white FC, using his opponents draft as best he could on the straight section. Ty watched the white line on the side of the road looking for the spot where they moved further away, the spot where the road became three lanes, almost there. . .Now!

Ryosuke saw the move in the rearview mirror right where he had expected Ty to make his move. He smiled to himself, and buried his foot in the floor the whole car surging forward. Ryosuke had allowed Ty to catch him using the draft so that now, when he accelerated Ty would not be able to use the draft to pull closer near the corner. The two cars were so close as far as outright performance that even such a small detail, such a slight edge had a huge impact in the running of the race.

Ty kept trying to catch Ryosuke, but he never seemed to be able to close the gap. He worked his Mustang and himself harder than he ever had before; even the Jennings weren't this tough to catch.

"Good race," Ty said as he approached Ryosuke who stood next to his car smoking a cigarette.

"Thank you, you too," Ryosuke said. "You're a talented racer, but your technique is a little rough, you'll be much faster when you refine it."

Ty's mouth fell open, surprised by his opponent's remark. It had been a long time since anybody had said something like that to him. Ty cheeks grew hot and anger welled from inside.

"Don't take it personally," Ryosuke said as if he could read Ty's mind. "These are just my observations from racing you tonight, and a little tip, because I know you can be faster and better."

Ryosuke exhaled smoke, Ty stood by, still quiet. He wanted to yell, he wanted to jump in his opponents face and shout and tell him he was wrong, but he knew somehow that Ryosuke was right. He had said these things in such a factual manner that Ty was sure he didn't mean them as an insult, they weren't a put down, or trash talk.

"Thank you," Ty finally managed to get out, his anger was still simmering just under the surface, but he kept it under control. "Maybe next time we race you'll see how much I've improved."

"I doubt it,' Ryosuke said, taking a drag from his cigarette. "I'll probably never see you again."

"I hope you're wrong," Ty said and walked away.

_I hope so too,_ Ryosuke thought to himself.

•••

Back at the starting line Jack Gavin and Keisuke were waiting for the starter. They had both agreed to an even start. Keisuke looked over at his competitor trying to keep his sideways glance a secret. He wasn't used to being so close to his opponent at the starting line because the FD was right hand drive and Jack's GTO was left hand drive the two were separated by little more than a yard. Jack looked determined, almost angry even; it was almost a little unnerving, almost.

In the black GTO Jack Gavin was in fact angry. The modified Pontiac Ram Air IV engine burbled way under the hood, and anger brewed inside Jack. There were a few things that would get Jack angry very quickly and they were rich kids, Mopars, and tuners, there were a lot of other things that could set off his hair trigger temper, but those three things worked without fail, and his opponent Keisuke Takahashi was two of the three. Or at least Jack thought he was.

Keisuke knew his opponent's anger could be exploited. His opponent's anger and aggression had helped him win in the past, and he figured it could probably work again. The starter finally moved out from the shoulder and raised his hand in the air.

"Ready. . ."

"Set. . .

"Go!" He shouted.

The two cars took off down the straight. Keisuke pulling out to an early lead in his yellow FD, he had balanced the clutch and throttle perfectly to put the rotary motors turbocharged power to the ground the most effective way possible. Jack on the other hand smoked the rear tires on his GTO, costing him valuable time. Keisuke smiled to himself a little as his opponents headlights got smaller in his rearview mirror. Quickly though they stopped shrinking and started to get a little bigger. He guided his car through the first turn, and began to pick up the pace.

Jack continued to push hard, gunning his GTO for all it was worth, braking as late as possible, sometimes having to overcome the nose heaviness of his GTO with a little bit of power oversteer. He wanted to make sure that the punk rich kid in the tuner car didn't get away, but he wasn't catching the yellow car as fast he would like. Anger began to manifest, first in his stomach, and slowly coursing through his whole body.

Even through his rearview mirror Keisuke could tell that his opponent was pushing just a little too hard, which was making Keisuke push a little harder then he thought he would have too. The way Jack was driving did make Keisuke slightly nervous, the harder you pushed, the further past the cars, and your own limits you go it that much more likely you are going to make a mistake. So far Keisuke had been lucky when his opponents had made a mistake, but sooner or later he knew his luck would run out. What amazed him still was how well his opponent was holding on.

Keisuke was still in the lead after they had passed Bethany United Methodist, the two competitors maintaining a steady gap, despite how hard Jack was trying to close it. Spectators lined the side of the road as the two cars approached the Park Road intersection. Jack charged for the inside, attacking the turn very aggressively, almost dangerously. Keisuke picked up his braking point and the black GTO sailed by, seemingly just barely in control. Keisuke didn't get right back on the throttle, for fear of running right into an accident, instead he watched as the GTO fishtailed wildly before straightening out and accelerating.

_I thought for sure you were going into the field. _Keisuke thought, '_That was pretty gutsy and pretty good.' _

Keisuke's eyes narrowed and he gave chase. After the short straight the two cars broke hard for the fast left hander that followed. The gap started to close a little as the turn tightened before opening out into another straight.

Keisuke picked up more space as the two cars charged past Central Davidson High School. Jack's lead continued to shrink as the last part of the course became faster with a series of fast turns connected by straights. Keisuke continued to close the gap by exploiting the FD's better brakes and tires. As the two cars charged down the last straight away the yellow FD had pulled even with the black GTO. Diving into the turn Keisuke nosed into the lead, accelerating into the lead and over the finish line.

_That was closer than I anticipated. _Ryosuke thought as the two cars gradually slowed to a stop on the far side of the bridge. _Jack must have been more aggressive than I thought._

•••

Nobody said anything after hearing the report, the collected members of the Shammel Highwaymen and the Ridge/Rollers all stood in mild shock after learning Keisuke Takahashi had bested Jack Gavin. After another moment they realized that all of the Ridge Rollers had been eliminated in the first round. Adding insult to injury Liam Jennings had made to the next round. Ty winced it would be hell for a while, every time they crossed paths for the next few months or until the next big thing came along the Moonrunners would have bragging rights, and the trash talk would be unbearable.

Matt looked around quickly before bursting, "You guys are still tops in my book!" He yelled jumping right up to Ty and Quentin, "You guys still rock! And you'll get those Jennings boys next time!"

"A'ight, a'ight, cool down man," Ty said stepping backwards quickly, "And besides we still got Chris, Bud and Mallory on our side."

Ty clapped his hands on Bud and Mallory's shoulders, and gave them a quick shake.

Bud and Mallory quickly exchanged nervous glance, suddenly aware of how big their next race could be.

"Well see you guys next weekend," Ty said as he and Quentin headed for their cars.

"Alright latter," Matt said as the other waved.


	17. Tell It To The Devil

Chapter 17 Tell It To The Devil

Sung grabbed his phone and dialed the number of a friend in Japan. They hadn't talked in a long time and there was a chance that his call would go unanswered, and that would be a shame.

"Hello?" the person who answered the phone said.

"Daisuke, how you been?" Sung said, trying to force his voice to be calm and casual.

"Pretty good, I just wish we were selling more magazines," the other responded.

"About that," Sung said, and even across the thousands of miles Daisuke could see the smile on Sung's face, "What if Ryosuke Takahashi wrote a series on Project D's American expedition?"

"What, are you his agent or something?" Daisuke scoffed, "He would never go for something like that."

"Don't be so sure, both he and Keisuke have been featured in other magazines, why not yours. Besides," Sung paused.

"Besides, what?" Daisuke asked.

"It could be just the thing to increase your readership," Sung said with the same cool understated tone.

There wasn't an audible answer, as Daisuke clearly was thinking about it.

"You know how many hits their website gets, think about all those people who check the website, they could be buying your magazine."

"Can you guarantee he'll do it?" Daisuke finally asked.

"I can't guarantee anything having to do with Ryosuke Takahashi or Project D," Sung paused. "But at least up front all it will cost you is a phone call."

"Yeah, and a few billion yen if he says yes," Daisuke said, but Sung could tell by the tone of his voice that he was warming to the idea.

"So you'll call him then?"

"Yeah, and I'll make an offer too," Daisuke said.

"Good," Sung smiled, "You won't regret it."

"I hope not," Daisuke paused, "You want a subscription to Super Togue?"

"Not right now. Later Daisuke."

•••

Takumi sat on the bed, holding the large hardcover book he had bought about the Shelby Cobra. He had already flipped through it repeatedly since buying it just a couple of weeks before. The pictures really were something else, and a lot of the pictures were of racing Cobras, and it looked like a lot of them were drifting. Today though he was focused on the chapters that were about how the car came to be in the first place, and examining the pictures of the Shelby Construction facility, because to call it a factory would be stretching the truth. The black and white photos showed small spaces, a handful of cars, and a handful of workers, transforming the small English convertibles into Cobras.

It all looked so simple, it wasn't a big industrial operation, they didn't seem to have tons of heavy machinery, and if such a small group of men could transform enough A.C. Aces into Shelby Cobras to sell, why couldn't he and some of the guys from Project D do the same thing. The writer kept referring to Carroll Shelby and his companions as California Hot Rodders, and they sounded a lot like street racers, a lot like what Project D had been doing for a long time.

No.

It would be a ridiculous idea. He was a driver, and Masashi was mechanic, they didn't know the first thing about building a car.

But then again, Carroll Shelby was a driver not a designer or engineer, and he had found people who could help make his idea work. Maybe Takumi could, maybe his old man could help him develop the suspension, he'd probably just complain about it though. Maybe he could make it work, maybe.

But what type of car would he start with? As much as he loved the 86 it was clear that he was already very near the cars limits, and they were limits that couldn't be raised simply by adding more power. Even though he was better with the mechanics of cars, even identifying models he still had a long way to go to be at the level of Iketani, or Itsuki, let alone someone like Ryosuke. What he need now was an easy way to get in touch with them, but there wasn't one, he would just have to wait until he got home, but in the meantime he could probably talk with Ryosuke about it, but it wouldn't work.

In another part of the house Ryosuke sat and looked at his computer on the screen was a short list, a _very _short list of cars that would be suitable for Takumi. Of the four on the list only two were real possibilities, and one of those was much better option than the other. It would still be good to have other options available for Takumi, but there weren't many options. Ryosuke began to look deeper, for more info on the vehicles. It was going to be very interesting when Takumi finally reached the same conclusion.

The formula was simple, and could be applied to any vehicle available in Japan but Takumi was used to small lightweight cars, and while he could easily drive something bigger the best results would come from using something lightweight, and nimble. It would ultimately be Takumi's car, he would have the final decision on what the formula would be applied to.

Perhaps it was a good time to start investigating motors.

"Ryosuke?" Takumi asked as he entered the room.

"Hello Takumi, what's going on?"

"You said you wanted to see this book I bought. I thought you might want to take a look at it Sunday, since we don't have a race that night… just figured I bring it down to you early," Takumi held the book out.

"Thank you," Ryosuke said closing his lap top, "What made you buy this book?"

"I'd never heard of the Shelby Cobra until I saw Mike's. I've been interested in it since. The rest of you guys at least knew what it was. I figured I had some catching up to do, and I thought it might be a little tough to find at home"

_And because it was the first car you lost to_, Ryosuke thought to himself. "It was a very impressive car," He said, "What do like the most about the book?"

"The picture of racing Cobras," Takumi answered running his hand through his brown hair, "Like that one."

"This one?" Ryosuke pointed to the black and white picture of a Cobra in mid corner.

"Yeah it looks like it's drifting," Takumi said, and Ryosuke noticed the subtle change in the young ace that indicated he was very focused.

"Hmm," Ryosuke said. It was indeed, leaning into the corner because of 1960s springs that were never up to the car, and tires that were narrow, and made with a compound that didn't generate a lot of grip, "He is drifting."

"I didn't know anybody in America ever drifted," Takumi said.

"It was once very common in circuit racing," Ryosuke said, "For a long time engine technology was far ahead of tire and suspension technology. It was the quickest way to get around a circuit for a long time. There was a very fine line between slowing down to much in an effort to retain grip and being too fast and having to large a drift angle. With more suspension and tire development, as well as aerodynamics modern cars generate much more grip."

Ryosuke could see how focused Takumi was, he was thinking about something very hard, he could almost see the gears turning in the younger man's head. Of course he could, Ryosuke had been over the same ground at one point, just as anybody who liked cars eventually you wonder about making your own, what it would look like, what the engine would be, what kind of drive train layout it would have. Somehow Ryosuke felt like Takumi would have much better chance of making it happen then others.

_Of course he would, _Ryosuke thought, _I'll make sure he makes this happen._

•••

Matt pulled his Camaro into the parking lot next to Chris' speed shop. Bud was sitting in the passenger seat. All day Matt had been busting at the seams excited that after buying the car he had finally saved up enough money to buy his first speed parts. Bud wasn't sure what he was talking about, Matt kept saying it was a cold air kit, but his car already had air conditioning and thankfully it was working right now.

"This is just the first step Bud," Matt said excitedly, "Soon I'll have enough money for a real dual exhaust. I don't care if everybody says the 305 is a boat anchor, I'm going to make it win, soon you and me will me will be the Shammel Highwaymen's unstoppable duo!"

"Sure Matt," Bud said as he climbed out of the car, "You better start practicing more."

"I practice as much as I can afford. Gas ain't cheap you know."

"Yeah, I know," Bud glanced across the street to the gas station where he and Matt worked. Grizz and Scott were on right now. Normally he would wave, but Grizz and Scott were both inside trying to escape the heat.

"Yo! Bud!" somebody yelled, and he focused his attention down the sidewalk in front of him.

"Hey, what's going on man? That was an awesome race the other night."

"Thanks," Bud said as the other approached, with his hand in the air. He was from school, but Bud couldn't remember his name. He was one of the more popular kids and the two never had any classes together.

"Come on Bud, don't leave me hangin'."

"Oh sorry," Bud said as he quickly high-fived the other student.

"Alright! You guys down here for stuff for your car?" He asked.

"No, for my car!" Matt said jumping forward, "I'm going to put a cold air kit on my Camaro! Bud's car doesn't need anything its already one of the meanest cars on the Shammel Highway!"

"Yeah," the other said inching back a little bit, "Yeah, with a car like that you could have any chick you wanted. Maybe after your next race you'll get rid of that nasty chick you hang around with."

"What do you mean?" Bud asked and Matt noticed how focused his friend had become.

"You know what I mean. Everybody's talking about you. You could have any chick at school just by asking. All I'm saying is you don't have to settle for some skank. I mean com..."

He never finished the sentence because Bud's right fist slammed his mouth shut and sent him reeling backwards. Before he had a second to recover Bud had a fistful of polo shirt and slammed the other high schooler against the brick wall of Duntov High Performance, his right arm cocked and ready for another strike.

"Bud!" Matt yelled and grabbed his friends arm.

"What the fucks your problem psycho!"

"Don't you ever talk about Mallory like that again!" Bud growled, and slammed him against the wall for emphasis, "Got it?"

"Are you fucking serious?" the other yelled indignantly, as he tried to get free of Bud's grasp.

"Very," Bud growled, and slammed him against the wall again for good measure

"And so are we," Grizz said from behind Bud, in all the commotion he hadn't heard his friends running footsteps.

"Alright! Just let me fucking go!"

"Not another word about Mallory," Scott said, "Cuz you won't like it if we find out your still spreading rumors."

"Alright! Fine!" the other guy said as Bud let him go, "It's just a joke you bunch of psychos!"

"Didn't sound like it to me," Bud said through clenched teeth.

"You better leave before you say something else stupid," Grizz said.

"Alright," he said and jogged off towards the parking lot, jaw throbbing and arm bleeding from the rough brick wall. He threw a glance behind himself as he rounded the corner of the building headed for his car.

"Thanks guys," Bud said as he turned around, he knew it wasn't the time to ask but he wondered how serious Scott and Grizz were about what they had said.

"Hey, we've always got your back," Grizz said, "And if somebody gives Mallory a hard time we've got her back too. Who would we be if we didn't take care of your girlfriend?"

"Right," Scott nodded.

"Thanks guys," Bud said again, "Now let's go get your parts ordered."

"Alright," Matt said and Grizz and Scott headed back across the street to the station.

"Hey guys what was all that yelling about?" Chris asked when Bud and Matt walked in.

"Bud just had to put some jerk in his place," Matt said.

"There's nobody bleeding on the sidewalk out front is there?"

"Nope," Matt answered, "Bud only hit him once and the guy left."

"Good," Chris said. "What brings you in here?"

"I want to order a cold air kit for my Camaro," Matt said proudly.

"For a 305 right?" Chris asked.

"Yeah," Matt answered.

"Alright, I'll call you up when they're in. Who's going to put this stuff in for you?"

"I was going to ask Scott and Grizz for help."

"Hmm. Why don't you bring it buy my place when the stuffs in. I have better tools then you guys, and a bit more experience," Chris smiled.

"Really?" Matt gasped.

"Yup," Chris nodded.

"That is so cool! Thanks!" Matt smiled as he and Bud left.

•••

It was dark, it was late, but still early for practice runs on the Shammel Highway. The problem was this weekend's races, there were so many competitors on top of the usual crowd that Mallory knew she would almost certainly have to share the course, and the last thing she wanted to do was share the course. The other problem was that, unlike Bud and his friends who were done with classes and just waiting for graduation Mallory still had school in the morning. So she had to hit the course early.

The whole thing was different in other ways too. Mostly in that she wasn't alone out here anymore, now Grizz and Scott didn't avoid her the way they used to, hell they even stuck up for her. Now she parked her black Mustang alongside Grizz or Scott or whoever she wanted. It was kind of nice. They understood too, even letting her have the first crack at the course so she would be able to go home and still get a good night's sleep. Either that or they were still a little self-conscious of Mallory being quicker. She smiled to herself and decided it was probably a little of both.

"Come on Bud, you have to ride along with me and give me some pointers," Matt was almost begging as Mallory walked over to the group.

"Calm down Matt. I can't really teach you anything," Bud protested.

"Why, you're way faster than me! You have to be able to tell me something useful. Oh come on please?" Matt was hoping up and down now.

"I don't know," Bud said, "I just drive. It's hard to explain."

Mallory chuckled to herself, and couldn't help but smile.

"Alright guys, I'm gonna start my practice run," Mallory called as she pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail, the blue died ends made it look almost like a paintbrush.

"Alright!" Grizz said and waved.

She lowered herself into her black Mustang. The motor started with a rumble, she checked all of the gauges just like her Dad had always taught her. There was a little nervousness as she prepared, sure they all seemed to like her now, but she still felt like she needed to prove herself to impress them. Well maybe not Bud, but Scott and Grizz. Finally she blipped the throttle a couple of times before launching into the North Carolina night, motor roaring, tires squealing.

"You are so lucky," Matt said to Bud who was still facing the direction Mallory had gone.

"Why?" Bud asked.

Matt looked back at his friend. "Why? You idiot!" He erupted, "Because you have a hot girlfriend who drives an awesome car! I can't believe you got so lucky you space shot I would kill for a girl like her and most won't even look at me!"

"Yeah, well that's not what you guys used to say," Bud answered unintentionally calling his friends out.

"Yeah, about that," Scott said, "I'm sorry Bud."

"Me too," Grizz said.

"Don't tell me," Bud said and he was serious, very serious, "You guys need to tell Mallory."

They didn't say anything, just nodded their response. Even Matt who had never said anything bad about Mallory that Bud could remember

"Thanks guys," Bud said, "I appreciate it."

Mallory guided her car through the twists and turns of the Shammel Highway, her black Mustang working flawlessly as always, the 5.0 motor roaring. It was her regular eighty percent practice run. Occasionally she would get out on the Shammel very late at night and run a lap at 100 percent, just so that she knew she could dig that deep if she ever had to in a race, and somehow she thought she would be doing that this weekend.


End file.
